


Episode 2: Le Boulanger

by QweenBeen



Series: Heads and Hearts: Tales of the Miraculous Ladybug & Chat Noir [6]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Akuma Possession, Anger, Angst, Betrayal, Deception, F/M, Gossip, Hawkmoth, Jealousy, Revenge, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, love square, trickery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-10 15:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10440432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QweenBeen/pseuds/QweenBeen
Summary: Please check out my Heads and Hearts Series so this one makes sense! ^_^http://archiveofourown.org/series/642425Episode 1: The FangirlOne Shot #1: Game OnOne Shot #2: A Perfect MatchOne Shot #3: Ancient MagicOne Shot #4: Flour PowerAll in that order!Welcome to Episode 2 in my Heads and Hearts Series! Le Boulanger, The Baker!Adrien and Marinette are in for another rollercoaster ride in this episode, especially with some Lila interference.I feel a teeny bit guilty putting them through what I do, but it's all about the journey, right? ^_^Thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, sorry this second episode took so long to post! Thanks for sticking around!

“Of course, of course, Mayor Bourgeois! It's an honor that you think my little bakery is worthy of such an important event.”

Tom Dupain quickly wiped his powdered sugar hands against his apron and extended it out to the dignified Mayor before him.

Mayor Bourgeois hesitated for a single beat before accepting his handshake. “It's my baby's sixteenth birthday. Quite the event, you know!”

“Oh, I do know sir. My own daughter--”

“Good, good,” Mayor Bourgeois interrupted, irreverent to Tom's personal story. “So we can expect the best. Let me know if you have any questions at all about that design.” The Mayor stabbed the drawing between them poignantly as his jovial expression darkened. “This is what my Chloe wants,” he explained succinctly, like he was addressing a child. “I'll expect no less.”

Tom held his breathe and nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “Absolutely, sir. You'll see nothing less from me.”

A slow grin spread over the Mayor's face, but it's plasticity did little to warm up the conversation. It was an altogether unnerving effect. “I'll bet this will be your ticket to a great future for that girl of yours.”

For the amount of money the Mayor was paying him for this birthday catering job, Tom could afford to send Marinette to the best fashion design programs in Europe.

“Yes, sir. That's a...um...nice _perk_.” It was best to keep that spoiled daughter of his the focus of the Mayor's attention. Everything beyond her was a side bar conversation anyway.

The Mayor gave a ho hum of laughter, pleased with what he considered his generosity of spirit and turned to leave the little bakery. “Three days, Mr. Dupain!” he sing-songed before the door tinkled closed behind him.

Tom looked down at the artist's rendering in his hands. It was elaborate to say the least. The girl wanted an Eiffel Tower cake that consisted of two hundred little Eiffel Tower cupcakes. Each of those little cupcakes had a mini version of Chloe on top of a tower, with the number sixteen at each little tower's base. There were lighting instructions and overall size dimensions that Tom also had to strictly adhere to.

It was a beast of a cake. “Three days,” he muttered to himself. “What kind of procrastinator gives a baker three days for _this_?”

He might actually have to shut down the shop and get started immediately, but it was a small price to pay in light of the compensation.

University was rearing its ugly head now, and while Marinette insisted she would work extra hard to get the scholarships and sponsors she needed, Tom would be beside himself if her dreams didn't come true because of something as petty as money.

Of course, there was the matter of her birthday cake as well. He couldn't let his own daughter's sweet sixteen be without one. Luckily, he had started to work on her cake design already, but he would have to strike a balance to complete both of these now. Seriously, what were the odds these two girls would have the same birthday?

Tom passed a nervous hand over his forehead as he absorbed the full scope of his projects, both for the love of his daughter in one shape or another. Setting his jaw with a firm resolve, he tightened his apron and set to work.

* * *

“Okay, so I was thinking we could go to the Carrousel du Louvre first, and then maybe hit up Espace Eiffel. There should be enough time for lunch in between or we could just hit up the Jardin de Palais Royal and see Gabriel's latest line. But really it's totally up to you. It's your birthday!”

Marinette laughed as Alya finally remembered she was an active participant in the planning. Fashion Week schedules and maps were spread out before them on the park table, and it was almost dizzying when she tried to take it all in. The timing was perfect for her birthday this year but she had no idea where she wanted to start.

“Glad you noticed, Alya,” Marinette joked with a wink. “Um, so Gabriel is a definite yes! Who needs to eat, right?”

Alya nodded and scratched the location and time onto her tablet. She'd volunteered to be her Fashion Week planner and coordinator this year. It was Alya's birthday present to her and no one could do it better. Someone had to keep Marinette organized so she wouldn't miss all the runways she was dreaming about.

“We wouldn't want to miss Gabriel now, would we?” Alya grabbed the nearest sepia toned ad bearing Adrien's pensive expression. She held it in front of her face and started her worst ever impression of him. “Hey, Marinette. I love you. _Mwah, mwah, mwah_.”

“Alyaaaa.”

“You sure know how to put aprons on, hot stuff.”

Marinette groaned. Would she never live that down?

“It's your birthday but let's _both_ get our birthday suits on, babycakes.”

“Alya!” Marinette barked a laugh and covered her face. “He hasn't even _kissed_ me yet, and you're talking birthday suits? Seriously?”

Behind Marinette's deepening blush was the fact that she _did_ think about it. The thought of them had crossed her mind more than a few times, usually in the darkness of her bedroom, where her imagination crept to places that were intriguing, scary and thrilling all at once.

She had high hopes that Adrien would be the _one_ but that wasn't going to happen any time soon. They hadn't even kissed. They weren't even dating! It would happen though, she was sure of it. He'd have to earn it by wooing her and serenading her, of course, but she was sure he was up to the task. How else could they have their three gorgeous kids, right?

Alya peered out over the top of the ad. “You're missing out, girl,” she muttered quickly before ducking to hide behind the ad again.

“Wait. What?” Marinette stared dumbfoundedly at Adrien's photo, processing things slowly. It was only another moment before her laser gaze went right through the paper thin ad straight to Alya's soul. “Have you and Nino...?”

Alya slowly peered over the ad again. Alya was bold, brazen, confident and enthusiastic. To see her now, bashful and shy, was a sight to behold. She was quiet for a bit, as if choosing her next words carefully.

“Maybe?”

“What?!” Marinette quickly leaned across the table and batted the sheet of paper aside. Alya blushed a bright red, but she had a smile that spoke volumes. “What do you mean _maybe_? I'm pretty sure you'd _know_ , Alya!”

“Okay, yeah. We did... _it_.” Alya flinched away, like Marinette's reaction would require ducking for cover.

It did.

“Whaaat!” Marinette screeched so loud she drew the attention of a few passerby. Her excitement made her totally oblivious to it as she dove over the top of the table to sit beside her.

“Oh, you have to tell me _everything_. Did it hurt? Was it fun? Who started it? Where? When? What was it like, Alya!” Marinette shook her friend's elbow urgently and Alya could only give herself a thorough face palm as her first reply.

It wasn't totally surprising that this happened. They'd been dating for over a year now and their body language recently had been singing a whole different tune.

“Holy shit, girl. I'm not going to tell you all the deets. I respect my privacy.”

“You write exposes!” Marinette whined loudly, pulling on her twin tails in frustration.

“Not about _myself_!”

Marinette turned on her most pathetic pout, the one she knew Alya was a sucker for. Her curiosity was running rampant now. This was a big deal. A _very_ big deal!

“Okay, okay,” Alya conceded, turning away from Marinette's pathetic entreaty but grinning all the same. “All I'm going to say is yeah, it totally lives up to the hype. Oh and um…we uh....” Alya looked away and blushed a deep crimson.

“What?” Marinette scrutinized her for a second. In the lengthening silence, a slow realization dawned on her. “Alya? _When_ did this happen?”

Alya looked more than ready to dive under the table at that moment. “I told you we don't get privacy so...you know....”

“What! Not last weekend! At my house!?”

Alya covered up her face and peered through her fingers. “Sorry, girl.”

“Where was I?”

“It was late! We all watched the movie, you went to bed and...well…Nino never left. Don't worry! We uh...protected your couch.”

“You lost your virginity on my _couch_?” Marinette screeched. Alya's eyes bugged out of her head and she quickly looked around the park for anyone they knew. Marinette quickly covered her mouth to take back her indiscretion. “Sorry,” she whispered dramatically. “But my couch, Alya?”

Alya shrugged. “Want me to get you a new one?”

“No, that's crazy. I'll just never be able to sit on it again.” Marinette crinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out, but elbowed Alya in the side to let her know she was half kidding. “At least someone is having fun on that thing, right?”

Alya's smile seemed more relieved than anything else and she hugged Marinette tightly. Some girls regretted it, Marinette was sure, but Alya was truely happy, and Marinette was happy for her. Her and Nino were a perfect balance of each other and she could only hope it would be a happy ending for them like it would be for her and Adrien.

“It was...pretty cool. I mean, like, we'd been talking about it for a while. We knew it felt right but we never got the chance, I guess. But you've gotta be ready for it. Don't feel rushed because I've done it, okay?”

Marinette hadn't even thought of it that way. Losing her virginity wasn't something she considered a competitive sport. She shook her head adamantly. “No, no way. I just want to get to the making out and snuggling phase.”

“That's a very good phase,” Alya agreed.

“At least now I know why Nino has been your little puppy dog all week, huh?” Marinette teased.

Alya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I'm a sucker for that shit. Just don't tell him I said that.” She pointed down at the picture of Adrien again. “And hey, you'll get your own snuggle bug soon. _Super model_ snuggle bug actually. I heard he's doing his first runway this year.”

Marinette laughed. “Yeah, it's weird right? Somehow I can't picture him doing the catwalk very well.”

“Maybe he'll swagger. Or saunter. Ooo, or traipse!”

“No! Adrien doesn't traipse, no way!”

Alya laughed. “Oh, whatever. As long as he makes his way to you, he could skip for all we care, right?”

Little butterflies fluttered in her stomach, practically tickling her silly at the thought that the gorgeous boy in that picture would soon be hers.

Adrien was more of a hopeless romantic than she was. He seemed to be waiting for the perfect moment to kiss her and she had no idea when or how it would happen, but she felt his timing inching closer and closer. The tension between them now was so thick she could cut it with a knife. It was a wonder they didn't just leap at each other and start making out.

Her excitement was making her antsy and all of his intense gazes, sweet smiles and random reasons to touch her had to amount to something soon.

“Maybe I should just jump him,” Marinette idly wondered out loud, doodling in the margins of an ad.

Alya hooted with laughter, but quickly recovered when she saw Marinette was serious. “What are you talking about, girl?”

“I don't know. Seems like he wants to get together, wants to kiss me and...,” Marinette blushed and raised an eyebrow, “...whatever _else_. Maybe I can just nudge things along.”

“Wow, girl, how much you've grown. I remember when you were tripping and drooling over him. Now you're talking about _jumping_ him?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I don't still feel like a blubbering moron sometimes.” Marinette shrugged then and propped her chin in her hand. “I'm just tired of _waiting_.”

“Well you're near the finish line, girl. Be patient.”

Marinette silently scrutinized her friend while she scratched more information in her tablet. Alya said it so offhandedly, so casually, that Marinette immediately sniffed something suspicious.

“What do you _mean_ I'm near the 'finish line', Alya?” she prodded innocently.

“What?” Alya appeared vexed as she peered at Marinette over the rim of her glasses. “Oh. Nothing,” she said before quickly looking back down.

“Alya?” Marinette singsonged sweetly. “Do you _know_ something I don't?”

“Uh, nooo. You're trippin', girl.”

“Alyaaaa,” Marinette sang, walking her fingers over to her tablet before quickly slapping her hand over it. “You're really bad at keeping secrets.”

“I kept Nino and I a secret,” Alya countered defensively, crossing her arms and frowning deeply.

“Ah ha!” Marinette leapt up excitedly and grinned ear to ear. It took her entire strength of will not to shake Alya forcibly by her arms. “So you _do_ have a secret!”

“That does _not_ imply I'm keeping a secret!”

“Does too! You get all defensive and you cross your arms!” Alya immediately uncrossed her arms, her guilt so plain now that Marinette took full advantage of her momentary weakness. “Is it about Adrien? Oooo, tell me it's about Adrien! Does he have something _amazingly_ romantic planned? Is it for my birthday? Is he taking me somewhere?” Marinette ignored Alya's hands as they rose to tell her to stop or slow down or both. “Oooo, are we going to dinner? Is he going to surprise me and confess his love and we'll live happily ever after?”

“Holy shit, Marinette! Slow down!”

Marinette clasped both her hands against her cheek and rocked happily at the table, feeling a giddiness that she hadn't felt in months. “You're saying I don't have to jump him. He's got _plans_ to sweep me off my feet and into his arms and say _Marinette, you make me want to be a better man._ ”

“Yeah, okay _Jack_. I'm not saying anything,” Alya continued stubbornly, but she couldn't hide her grin at Marinette's ridiculousness.

“No, no, no, you're right. He'd be more original than that.” Marinette sighed dreamily and grinned broadly at Alya. “You're not going to tell me what he has planned, will you?”

Alya winked giving up any guise of ignorance. Now she was just going to be a tease. “My lips are _sealed_ , missy.”

“Can I guess? You don't need your lips! Just nod your head once for--.”

“Nope.” Alya shook her head once adamantly.

“How about I ask questions and you tap the table? One for yes and two for--.”

“Nope. Not even in Morse code, lady.”  
She bopped Marinette playfully on the nose. “You're just going to have to wait and see.”

* * *

“Fuck, Plagg!” Adrien threw himself down on his bed, the sheets cool and refreshing against the hot muscles of his arms and legs. If he worked out one more time, or stood for a fitting for one more minute, he would literally tear his hair out. Like clumps of hair. Out.

Plagg had been happily alternating between knawing on camembert and napping contentedly in the darkness of Adrien's closet all day. There was no point in bringing him along when he was being poking and proded anyway.

“Looking good, kid. Having fun strutting your stuff?” Happy as a clam, Plagg didn't bat an eye at his friend's exhaustion.

“I hate strutting. Seriously, remind me never to strut again.”

“Oh, but I bet you're so good at it. You must have all the ladies _swooning_.”

Adrien looked down at his disgusting t-shirt drenched to the skin with sweat. When he wasn't standing like a mannequin, Nathalie had him on the strictest diet and workout regime known to man. Muscles he never knew he had were screaming for mercy. “I am so not interested in swooning girls, Plagg. This is the first and last time I do this.”

“What? Why? Your daddy will be so disappointed. You're the face of his brand!”

“He'll be more disappointed when his _brand_ drops dead from exhaustion. I hope. I haven't had time for _anything_!”

“Anything? Or any _one_?” Plagg teased, plugging his nose quickly when he got too close. Adrien was pretty sure he was at least four hours overdue for a shower but he couldn't budge.

“Both. I need to do _things_ for a certain some _one_ and I haven't even started!”

“Oooo, Marinette's present. You'd better get started.”

“You think? Ugh!!” Adrien threw a pillow over his head and screamed with all the frustration he had pent up inside him. She was the most important thing to him right now and she'd fallen to the bottom of his schedule. He wanted to do something amazing for her birthday. Something she would never forget.

“Go take a shower, Adrien. You smell like stinky cheese. Then let's go shopping. Chop chop,” Plagg insisted, still holding his nose. It was an odd thing for Plagg to be so excited about his relationship with Marinette, but maybe it was because this girl didn't hide behind a mask. Adrien couldn't be sure.

Adrien struggled to get up and quickly ruffled his damp hair. “You love the smell of cheese,” he mumbled, crinkling his own nose as he stood and peeled his shirt off. For all the soreness and pain that coursed through him, he felt he ought to have bruises everywhere, but there wasn't a spot on him.

“Yeah, when it's _cheese_. Seriously, go burn that and shower!”


	2. Chapter 2

“So what super duper amazing gift are you going to get her?” Plagg asked from the hiding place beneath Adrien's shirt. His bodyguard thankfully remained parked at the end of the street. He didn't need a hulking shadow joining him in all the little artist shops and boutiques along the rue.

“Well, she's going to start building her portfolio soon. She'll need a beautiful way to present it, right?”

“Oooo, something shiny?”

“Uh, I was thinking leather. A soft suede leather portfolio to hold all her sketches. Handmade. And the best paper and drawing pencils money can buy.”

He pictured it perfectly in his mind's eye and it should've been an easy thing to find. He started his search with the enthusiasm of enamored youth, his heart set on what he knew Marinette would love. Adrien entered shop after shop but nothing stood out as amazing and worthy of her birthday gift. His hope of finding anything steadily started to slip as he fought the exhaustion of his already grueling day.

He was tired and disheartened and ready to plop right down onto the street when he spotted one last shop he could try. It was a little boutique and seemed as nondescript as the others. If this one didn't have the jackpot, a plain old dinner on the Seine with a few fireworks would just have to do.

“Adrien?” He turned to see Lila crossing the street towards him, her hands full of shopping bags. “Hey!”

“Hey, Lila.” He couldn't help but look around uncomfortably. He knew for a fact that Alya and Marinette couldn't stand her, so he felt a little guilty just by saying hi. He just didn't see her in the same light as they did. She was flirty, sure, but not as clingy as Chloe tended to be. “Buying up the street, I see.”

“Oh, these? Naw, I'm my mom's errand girl for the afternoon. Almost all done too.” She looked over his shoulder towards the boutique. “Please tell me you're heading in there? It's my last stop and I could really use another pair of hands.”

“Actually, yeah. Here, let me help you with those.”

“Aw, thanks. You're a life saver.” Adrien lightened Lila's load of bags as they walked towards the art store.

It was smaller inside than the others, dark and maybe even a little dusty. His heart fell at first glance, sure that this place wouldn't have what he wanted either.

“So what are you looking for?”

“An artist portfolio. Something nice....”

“I didn't know you were an artist, Adrien!” Lila elbowed him playfully as they started to pass through the narrow isles.

“It's not for me.”

“Oh. Errand boy today too, huh?”

“It's a birthday present.”

“Ooooh, got it. Well they're bound to have what you want here. My mom swears by this place.”

Adrien trailed his fingers over the soft tops of hundreds of paint brushes. “Your mom's an artist?”

“Yeah a painter. My dad's the curator of the little gallery down the street.” Lila seemed to know exactly where she was going, and took a left at the end of the aisle. “He showcases local artists and stuff. It's pretty cool.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“I've definitely met my share of _interesting_ people. Here we are.” Lila stopped in the center of their aisle and Adrien's stomach flipped to see some of the most beautiful leather bound portfolios he could hope to find. Thick supple leather in black or natural colors, and all in various sizes. He actually had options here.

“Think these will work?”

Adrien reached out towards a black portfolio that screamed Marinette's name. It even had a pink inner lining. “Absolutely. This one is perfect.”

Lila smirked as he pulled it out. “Pink, huh? New girlfriend?” she teased.

“I hope so,” he whispered. “Do they have pencils here?”

He was too excited to even notice Lila's disappointed frown when her curiosity wasn't sated.

“Yeah, last aisle. Go for the pastel pencils, they're awesome. Meet you up front then?”

“Yeah, sure. This is so perfect....” He was too preoccupied with admiring the leather on the portfolio to look up. He could even get this embossed, maybe with her initials? Or her first name? Whatever it was, it would be a big beautiful scrawling script.

He could just see Marinette's eyes light up, sparkling in the light of the solitary candle that would flicker between them. She would gasp and cover her mouth, her blue eyes widening, unbelieving and dazed. Her radiance and beauty would put the stars in the sky to shame. Their light would reflect in her eyes in a desperate attempt to be noticed and his whole world would fall away before her.

She'd slowly wrap her hands around the leather, and he would watch her fight back tears of joy as she bit her lip in that way that drove him crazy.

She'd look up at him then, her cheeks flushed pink, and he would tilt her chin up with his finger and hear her say thank you before he'd whisper a happy birthday near her ear.

That's when he would kiss her. Months and months of tension would be sweetly released in a single moment. She'd suddenly drop the portfolio in surprise and her arms would wrap around his neck. Her long slender fingers would weave through his hair, and he'd pull her closer, lost in her warmth and scent, her soft lips tasting like strawberries. He always imagined strawberries. He'd hold her tight, spin her even. Yes, he would spin her like the princess she was.

Adrien suddenly looked up to find he'd somehow managed to grab the best colored pencils in the store and had made it to the cashier without crashing into everything.

“That's three hundred euros,” the cashier stated, looking Adrien up and down critically, doubtlessly wondering how a kid would afford it.

He vaguely heard Lila gasp beside him but didn't bat an eye as his credit card rang through with a happy beep.

“Thank you, sir. I'll wait for you outside, Lila.”

With the portfolio now carefully wrapped in brown paper under his arm, he had to be extra careful with Lila's shopping bags so he didn't drop everything at once.

As he waited alone outside of the shop, he ticked off all the little details that he still had to arrange for her birthday. It was only three days away and between fittings and workouts, he'd have to work extra hard to get it all done. There were the violinists, the pyro-technicians, the restaurant catering, and now finding an embosser for this portfolio. He wouldn't give a single iota of work to Nathalie either. This would all be Adrien's gift to Marinette, hand crafted and composed by him.

He was starting to wonder if he should try to hire a crooner, Frank Sinatra style, when Lila joined him outside.

“Jeez, Adrien. You must have a special someone,” she noted as she gestured towards the portfolio. “Who's the lucky girl?”

Adrien blushed and looked down. It was a good thing Lila didn't know all the other ways he was planning to wrack up the birthday bill. He couldn't imagine what her reaction would be. But he could say something, right? Lila could be civil, after all. She'd apologized after spilling all that punch on Marinette, and had been cool with Marinette sticking around at the Mecha Strike III thing.

“Actually, it's Marinette.”

“What?!” Lila's shouted so loud that Adrien jumped back and stared at her. “Sorry. I just... _wow_ , I didn't think you guys were a _thing_.”

“Oh, we're not,” Adrien hurried to clarify. “Not yet anyway. It's her birthday soon and I wanted to get her something nice.” He shrugged to look nonchalant, and not as if all his dreams of happiness were riding on the gift under his armpit. “Maybe see if she'd go out with me.”

Across the rue and behind Adrien's back, a swath of red hair in a white head band ducked to hide behind a magazine. Only the tops of her eye glasses peeped over as she watched the pair silently.

Lila's eyes flicked over to her and brightened.

“Uh...walk with me, Adrien,” Lila suddenly cried out unnaturally loud. “I don't live far and I could use the help.”

“My driver is right back there--.”

“No, no. I'd like to walk. Come on.”

Adrien readjusted one more time, careful to make sure his elbow firmly squeezed the portfolio to his side. The Gorilla would have a field day when he saw Gabriel's heir to the throne being a lapdog, but that's just how it would be.

“So, are you hoping to buy her affection or something?” Lila asked as they started down the road. She was suddenly acting very different than moments ago, but Adrien couldn't peg exactly how.

“No, not at all! I just wanted to get her something nice, you know. She's has a passion for fashion design and--.”

“So what are you actually going to say to her?” Lila interrupted. Her gait was more swishy than normal, and her shoulder kept brushing up against his.

“Uh...*Marinette, will you go out with me? *”

Lila stuck her tongue out and frowned. They rounded a corner and she looked over her shoulder at something before continuing.

“You can't just blurt it out like that. You need to say something romantic.” Her voice had become softer and Adrien found himself leaning towards her to hear her. “Something that will just sweep her off her feet.”

“Well, sure, there's a lot I could say, but I don't want to freak her out.”

“Why would it freak her out?”

Adrien smirked dryly and shrugged. “You don't want to know all the sappy shit I think of, Lila.”

“Well, isn't that the sweetest thing. Do you sing at least? Maybe you could serenade her?” Lila's sudden interest in Adrien's love life raised more than a few alarms . He was pretty sure she should've changed the subject by now.

Adrien shrugged and smirked at a distant memory. “When I'm feeling _festive_ , I guess. I don't make a habit out of it.”

“Well that's too bad. So...here I am.”

“Wow, you do live close.”

They stopped at the front stoop of a narrow quaint city house, tall and lean and identical to its neighbors. Adrien went to follow her in, but she stopped him.

“It's okay, you can just put the bags down. Thanks for helping me.”

“Sure, no problem.” Adrien carefully released all of her things to the ground, missing her subtle smirk and quick glance she cast across the street.

“Before I let you go though, I want to know that you have a solid game plan for Marinette's birthday.”

Adrien furrowed his brow and didn't even try to hide his surprise. Now she was being blatantly weird about it.

“I'm sorry, Lila, but why do you care? I mean....” He trailed off and felt a flush creep up his neck. Somehow asking _don't you have the hots for me?_ didn't feel like the right thing to say.

Lila got the hint anyway, and took both of his hands in hers. “Adrien, I know I'm obvious, and you know I like you.” Her long lashes fluttered delicately as she blushed. “It's because I really like you that I want to see you happy. If you think Marinette can do that for you, why would I ever want to get in the way of that?”

Adrien's jaw slackened as she took a timid step towards him. “Wow, Lila. That is... incredibly...big of you. _Thank_ you.”

Lila smiled and pecked him quickly on the cheek. She didn't pull away though, and in fact, seemed to snuggle in a little closer.

“Now pretend I'm Marinette. What would you say to me?” she whispered.

Adrien felt himself warm up under her intense gaze. Lila wasn't unattractive, by any means, and he felt her press against him in ways he imagined Marinette would.

“I...erm….” He swallowed thickly and wondered if there was a polite way to back away from her. If someone saw them....

“Just speak from the heart, Adrien.” Her hands crept up along his chest as she waited expectantly.

He took a deep breathe and smiled down at her. With effort, he could try and imagine Marinette in her place. He could use the practice, right? Plagg didn't play her part as well as he would've liked anyway.

“Marinette. I want you to know that I--I really care about you. I've been so clueless for so long, but you've made me see what happiness really is.”

He put his hands gingerly on Lila's waist and swallowed hard when she took them and wrapped them more completely around her. “I couldn't ask for a better friend. So I--um--I'd like to see if you'd want to be more than friends.”

“Weak,” Lila whispered, scrunching her nose and leaning into his arms.

“Okay, okay.” Adrien took a deep breathe. This was the first time he was saying all of this aloud. This was good. He needed to know if it all sounded totally stupid. “Marinette, I can't stop thinking about you. You're on my mind all the time, and I have to know if you feel the same way. I want to know what it's like to fall in love with my best friend. Will you give me that chance?”

“Woah. Slick one.” Lila snaked her arms around his neck and smiled, her lips inches from his and she wasn't about to relent. “And then you would kiss her, right?”

“Um…well…if she wanted to, yeah.” Lila snapped her eyes over his shoulder and Adrien took the opportunity to unwind himself from her clutches and put space between them again. He didn't even notice the refreshing glint of satisfaction that sparkled in her eyes.

“Thanks, Lila. That's the first time I said that stuff aloud. It sounded okay?”

“It was perfect, Adrien. You're going to take her breathe away.”

* * *

“Hey, dad. What's with the sign on the door? Why are we closed?”

Marinette's dad was hunched over a table in the back of the bakery, his huge form out of place in the little cramped corner. She couldn't quite tell what he was working on, but when he didn't respond, Marinette crept up quietly behind him to peer over his shoulder.

The table was littered with little Eiffel Towers and figurines that looked oddly familiar.

“Dad?”

“Oh! Hi sweetheart! I didn't hear you come in.”

Ignoring the fact that she'd asked a question to announce herself, Marinette patted her dad on the shoulder and gestured to the busy table top. “What's all this?”

“Oh a project I have to work on. Nothing you need to worry about,” Tom said dismissively, turning back to his work. For a man with such incredibly large hands, he moved his fingers deftly to create the intricate details of each and every piece.

Marinette picked up one of those pieces now, and looked closely at the cupcake size figure of a girl. The little face was smiling, but her most distinctive feature was her blond head of hair, crafted in a long high pony tail.

“Dad?” Marinette turned the figure over in her fingers to be doubly sure. “Why are you making a million Chloe Bourgeoises?” Marinette frowned and placed it back down on the table. “One is too much, we don't need more.”

Tom sighed and set down his work, finally looking up at her. Marinette didn't miss the stress and anxiety painted plainly on his face. He looked like he'd been up all night.

“I'm a little behind schedule,” he said dully, rubbing his face with both hands.

“Behind what schedule? What's this for?”

“Chloe's birthday in a couple of days. Same day as yours in fact.” It was a fact that Marinette knew well, since they were still learning their ABCs, actually. It was a fact that Marinette always chose to pointedly ignore, too.

“The Mayor came in this morning and had this commission--.”

“This morning?!” Marinette exclaimed. “Dad! Our birthday is in two days! How big is this job?”

“Well....” Tom looked away from his daughter to survey the table again.

“Wait wait wait. Don't tell me. This is Chloe we're talking about so it's gotta be some crazy elaborate behemoth of a cake that gotta be _utterly_ perfect.”

“Two hundred little cakes, actually. Makes one big behemoth.” Tom actually looked a little cowed as his daughter gesticulated in a mad frenzy of emotion in front of him.

“Two hundred?! Dad! Chloe doesn't have _two_ friends! What the hell is she going to do with two _hundred_ cupcakes?”

Marinette was absolutely beside herself. “The Mayor--,” Tom tried to interject.

“Don't get me started on the Mayor, Dad! He comes in here two days before the due date with this monstrosity! He's gotta be the least forward thinking person running this city!”

“Now, now, hunny, listen here--.”

“Why would you put yourself through this, Dad!?”

“Sweetheart, stop!” His voice boomed in the little room and Marinette's next objections froze in her throat. Tom took a hold of her flailing hands to steady her and calm her down. “Just listen, honey. The Mayor probably didn't get this design from his daughter until this morning, so we can't blame him for coming in here when he did.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but all the shout was out of her now. “Far be it for the Mayor to actually tell Chloe 'no',” she muttered bitterly. The new strain in her dad's eyes, no doubt a result of her outburst, made her immediately feel guilty.

“I'm not doing this for free, Marinette,” Tom reminded her. “I could shut down the shop, and go on a river cruise every weekend for the rest of the year with the compensation he's giving us for this.”

Marinette's jaw dropped and she just stared at her dad blankly. She was speechless.

“Granted, I don't have plans to do any of that, but I think two days of craziness is more than worth it. Trust me.” He smiled thinly and tugged at one of her twin tails. “Don't you worry about your old man, okay?”

Marinette sighed. “So you're not retiring, and you're not traveling the world. Why _are_ you doing this dad?”

Tom shrugged, but didn't answer right away. “Dad?” Marinette pressed.

“The money could really help you out in a year, honey and--”

“I told you, I can take care of myself. Scholarships, internships, whatever. I have a handle on it,” she insisted, squeezing his hands back the best she could.

“I know, I know. I raised you to be independent and I don't want you to think this undermines that.”

Marinette frowned deeply, shaking her head. “My dreams shouldn't make you suffer through this...this… _crap_.”

“Nothing I do is crap when it's for you, sweetheart.”

“Dad...,” Marinette muttered, not meeting his eyes. She wasn't sure what to say.

“Just consider it a backup plan, okay? I'd do anything for you.” She looked up at him then, and leaned in for the biggest hug she could give. “You'll have your whole life to take care of yourself,” Tom continued quietly. “Let me do what I can now, okay?

“Okay,” she whispered, her eyes stinging with all the love she felt for him. This was a disagreement she didn't need to win.

“I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, dad.”

* * *

**_My, my, Volpina. What an impressive trickster you are. You don't even need my help to create illusions of your own. Let's take it a step further, shall we? I believe we can help each other reach our fullest potential. I've come back with some new tricks of my own...._ **

* * *

“Master!”

Wayzz flew out of the side room and landed eagerly on the Great Guardian's knee where he sat in meditation.

“You felt that too, Wayzz.” Master Fu did not open his eyes even as the sharp note of a chill ran down his spine.

“It was an Akuma, Master! But not like anything I've ever felt before! Could this mean...?”

“Yes. It appears our enemy has gained access to more powers. Our friends may need more help than we'd first imagined.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not totally happy with this chapter, but if I didn't post it I'd tweak it forever! :-/
> 
> Hope you enjoy anyway ^_^

“Ew, what are you trying to _say_ , Sabrina?” Chloe's voice rang loud and clear as students made their way up the steps to school. She had that charming way of announcing her presence without much effort.

“I'm _saying_ exactly what you think I'm saying, Chloe. Lila and Adrien are totally a thing.” Sabrina was failing miserably at whispering, and Marinette gasped where she walked behind them.

She tried to shrink as much as possible, to overhear them without being noticed, but Chloe was in such a tizzy that her efforts didn't seem to matter.

“Can you actually hear yourself right now? That is utterly ridiculous! Adrikins has better sense than that.”

“I saw them yesterday, Chloe. He was shopping with her, holding her bags, walked her home and even kissed her!

“He did not kiss her!” Chloe shrieked, stomping her foot in outrage. Marinette's own shriek sounded more like a hiccup, her breathe hitching as she tripped up a couple of stairs.

Sabrina shrugged and looked pathetically at a loss. “I didn't actually _see_ them kiss, no. I had to get out of there before they saw me. But--.”

“Then it didn't happen! Why are you spreading nasty rumors about my Adrikins?”

“I'm just telling you what I saw, Chloe. I would never dream of telling anyone else.”

“Good! Because I don't hang out with nasty gossips.”

If it was possible for Sabrina to look more meek and pathetic, Marinette couldn't imagine it. Chloe had shut her down quickly, but inexplicable knots twisted in Marinette's belly that made her nauseous.

What was going on? What _had_ Sabrina seen that could've convinced her Adrien was with Lila? Everything was going so amazingly well with him that this was completely out of left field.

“There's no way you saw what you think you saw, Sabrina,” Chloe muttered under her breathe.

They were entering their classroom now, and Marinette wasn't sure how she felt upon seeing Adrien's empty chair. Maybe she was hoping to see an explanation written plain on his face to quickly shut Sabrina's story down.

“I'm sorry, Chloe,” Sabrina whispered as they slid into their seats.

“You should be. You're ruining my whole birthday week!”

Marinette slipped onto the bench beside Alya, barely noticing her.

“What was _that_ about?” Alya asked curiously. She smirked and nodded in Chloe's direction. “Must be sweet if it ruins Chloe's whole birthday _week_.”

Marinette chewed her bottom lip hard, staring at the empty chair in front of her.  
None of this made sense. Sabrina wasn't the type of person to make things up. She was a lot of things, but she wasn't a liar.

“Sabrina thinks she saw Adrien and Lila yesterday,” she said quietly to the table.

Alya just looked confused. “Okaaaay. Well, last I checked, they were friends. Granted, I think he's _crazy_ and should totally see right through her, but whatevs.” She shrugged and pulled out her phone, ready to change the topic.

Marinette stared at the desk for a long quiet second, her vision unfocusing. She didn't have the heart to look up. She wasn't even sure what her face would do if she _did_ look up. “She says she saw them... _kiss_ , Alya,” Marinette whispered.

“What!” Alya screeched, leaping out of her chair in surprise. She quickly sat back down when everyone turned to stare at her, leaning towards Marinette to whisper fiercely. “That is fucking batshit crazy!”

“Yeah I know. But Alya?” Marinette finally looked at her and Alya's consternation made her eyes burn. “What _did_ she see?”

“Nothing. She didn't see a damn fucking thing.” Alya was so adamant Marinette was sure she was trying to convince herself too.

“Alya....”

“Don't believe it, Marinette. Adrien is crazy about you. I'm gonna call him after class--.”

“Oh no you're not! What the hell are you going to say? You're my best friend! If he's up to something, he wouldn't tell you!”

Alya frowned and crossed her arms. “Marinette. Do you really think he's playing you? Adrien? Really?”

Marinette blushed deeply and looked away, shaking her head silently. That did seem unlikely....

“Good. I'll just call him and we'll clear this whole nasty business up. I'm all about the facts, girl.”

“Please don't say anything about me hearing anything.”

“Fine, fine, I'll get the facts without implicating you.” Seeing that Marinette wasn't keen on this particular mystery, Alya squeezed her hand and smiled reassuringly. “Don't worry, he'll have an explanation.”

Marinette sighed and let herself trust that Alya would get to the bottom of things. She didn't need to add this to her list, not with already worrying about her bleary-eyed parents, school, akumas and everything else.

“So I take it he's not coming in today?” Marinette gestured to the empty chair in front of her.

Alya shook her head. “Nino said he's swamped with Fashion Week shit. He's probably not coming in until after the show tonight.”

“That's _tonight_?!”

Alya palmed her forehead in exasperation. “Jeez, girl. Okay, clearly you _do_ need me.”

Marinette lowering her head to the desk and groaned.

“Alya, please help me,” Marinette moaned.

Alya rubbed her back in comfort but their conversation was cut short when their teacher entered the room.

It only made things worse.

Instead of vocalizing her new torrent of emotions and questions, she was forced to keep quiet, which only caused a flood of worries and self doubt.

Had she read all the signs wrong? That was impossible. He was so obviously into her, bolder than ever before and building up to something. Everyone knew it was undeniable that he liked her. She could be clueless, but not _that_ clueless. Right?

Did that mean he _could_ be playing two girls at once? That seemed so totally unlike him that Marinette wrote it off immediately. Adrien wasn't the type to test the waters or play the field. They were both hopeless romantics so she knew as well as anyone that there were rules to being hopeless. The number one rule was you were only crazy about one person at a time.

Marinette spent the next hour of class waffling between different possibilities until she finally decided on the most probable. Well, it was the one that would keep her the most sane, at least.

Alya was right, she had to give Adrien the benefit of the doubt. Knowing Lila, she had probably been rubbing up all over him, touching him, fawning over him; doing all of those stupid things she did around him. Sabrina wouldn't know what was what if she saw that. She would only assume that Adrien would reciprocate.

But his friends _knew_ him. Marinette _knew_ him and he wasn't like that. He was nice and polite to _everyone_ , no matter how awkward he felt. He was a celebrity but he was humble. He didn't run around seeking attention from all the girls who wanted him. He was filthy rich but he was generous and gracious. And sweet and kind and funny and dashing....

Marinette ended class with a dopey smile on her face and Sabrina's story pushed to the back of her mind. She had the show tonight to look forward to, and she wasn't going to ruin the whole thing by thinking about this.

Alya would confirm it later, and Marinette would laugh this all off as another theatrically overdramatic misunderstanding. And _then_ Adrien would sweep her off her feet and tell her she was silly to have ever doubted him. Kiss kiss, smooch smooch. Happy ending.

* * *

“Wow, the shit he must've gone through to look like _that_!”

Fashion shows weren't Alya's passion, by any stretch of the imagination, but the energy and excitement was contagious. Marinette understood completely, and she was still vibrating from the thrill of it. Even as everyone was streaming out of the building, the runway, clothes and _Adrien_ were still emblazoned across her vision....

When they'd first arrived, there had been a million hushed and enthusiastic conversations filling the room. It was her first Gabriel show and Adrien had pulled all the right strings so they had some of the best seats in the house, right next to the runway itself.

It was. Simply. _Amazing_.

This place, these people. They were the culmination of a fashion designer's hard work and dedication. And _this_ was where she wanted to be one day. Hours of sweat, tears, sleepless nights and thousands upon thousands of discarded sketches lead right here. She hadn't been under emphasizing the importance of all of this to her dad either. She would do whatever it took to see her clothes on a Fashion Week runway one day. She'd slog through menial internships or run around like a crazed chicken if it got her here.

She could just see her name plastered around Paris, announcing her debut. They'd be saying her name on red carpet premieres:

Marinette Agreste. Marinette Dupain-Cheng Agreste? No. Keep it alphabetical. Marinette Agreste Dupain-Cheng. That didn't work.

Okay. She'd have to work on what name people would be saying, but there was time for that.

The hall had fallen into a hushed silence when the blaring synthesized music announced the start of the show. It kicked off with a two minute teaser as the massive screen behind the runway started scrolling through Gabriel's latest inspirations for this season's designs.

She wanted to talk Alya's ear off in her excitement, but they could barely hear themselves think, let alone hear each other. She became so enraptured by the video, her mouth agape and sitting on the edge of her seat, that she had to jump start her brain when the first model walked out.

Adrien.

All of the grace and composure Marinette had learned around him, particularly not blanking out and gaping, backslid by a solid year when her jaw hit the floor.

He was gorgeous. He was larger than life. He hardly looked like the guy she knew with that serious and stoney model expression on his usually lively features. His hair was tousled in an artistic mess that must have taken _hours_. And was that....? Yep that was _definitely_ eyeliner. And blush. The makeup artists did it all just right though and he looked older and confidant and nothing like the sixteen year old he really was.

Could this dreamy, absolutely gorgeous guy have a thing for her? Her of all people? It was completely unreal in it's magnitude. He seemed untouchable as he walked up there with long confidant strides, one hand in his pocket with practiced precision. Millions of eyes were on _him_ , here and broadcasted to the world. Marinette was just a body in a sea of darkened forms, missable and unnoticed in his shadow.

He must have known where they were sitting, since he'd arranged their seats, but he kept his eyes straight ahead, not wavering once. They _had_ trained him well because Marinette was sure she was drilling a hole right through him. Or through his clothes.

Marinette blushed and relaxed into her seat as Adrien was soon followed by a line of other models, older and younger, men and women. All beautiful, of course. At least when he rounded the corner to disappear backstage it gave her a chance to breathe and actually look at the _clothes_! Gabriel had done it again, as usual, and Marinette oogled in silent rapture.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, Adrien came out five times during the course of the show. The logistics of it must have been a nightmare for him backstage, but he was calm and cool every time he hit the runway. It was almost superhuman. He wore an amazing formal suit one minute, and poof, he was in a new preppie casual outfit the next.

And Marinette was beside herself every time. So many other girls must be gaga over him at this very same moment, but she was the one who had gotten the closest. She knew what his chest felt like under her fingertips. What his hands felt like on her waist…the smell of his cologne. She was the lucky one now, and it was enough to scatter her sanity joyfully in all directions.

It was when the show started to wind down to a close, and Marinette didn't think she could handle any more awesomeness, that he came out for the pièce de résistance.

Marinette's squeak drew a few curious glances from around her and Alya's bony elbow got her in the ribs, but she was too far gone to register the pain.

Donning nothing but swim trunks and a small white towel to hang around his neck, Adrien sent her tumbling out of her chair. He was not big and bulky, that much was obvious with his clothes _on_. But she hadn't dreamed he'd be _ripped_ with lean muscle like _that_. His pectorals, his abs and arms, they all rippled with the muscles of an athlete. What the hell kind of workout regimen did he have? Did _fencing_ do that?

It was lucky Gabriel had at least put his son in modest swim trunks instead of a speedo, but Alya's talk of birthday suits came roaring back to life. This was one memory she needed to sear into her retinas. And heir next date would involve swimming, most definitely. Maybe a waterfall....

Marinette's dreamy sigh must have done something, because Adrien's eyes strayed for the first time and found her. Their eyes locked for a beautiful, glorious second and Marinette's mind went completely blank. And then he winked. One of those quick winks that may or may not have actually happened, but Marinette was almost one hundred percent sure it had. Her breathe caught in her throat and all she could do was stare and grin with crazed infatuation.

Now with the show over, the excitement lingered over the crowd as they anxiously waited for the lead model and designer to make an appearance. Between Gabriel and Adrien, the media loved them. Not every world renown fashion designer had a gorgeous son to showcase his clothes.

Between the news broadcasters and interviewers, rabid fans and plain old pushy people, Marinette and Alya were shoved to the back of the crowd, forced to peer over a sea of heads. No amount of Alya's stubbornness could budge them from their spot and Marinette could only hold out hope that Adrien would spot her and call her over.

“Wow, girl, this is mad crazy right now!” Alya called over the surrounding roar of conversations.

“Well, I guess we know why he didn't answer your call.” Marinette had held out a flicker of hope that Alya would've talked to him, but it made sense that he was indisposed.

“Yeah, but don't worry! It'll be fine! He's clearly got his hands full. I've never seen such rabid fans!”

“Except that one time?” Marinette ventured, fighting to hold her ground as the crowd jostled them around.

“The Louvre? Please. That was nothing compared to this!” she said with an obvious gesture around them. “This is a whole new level of wacked out! The whole _world_ is going to know about him now!”

Marinette grinned and stared at the closed back stage door dreamily. “Yeaaah.”

“You know what that means right? That'll totally make _you_ famous, too?” Alya teased with a little elbow nudge.

“What?” That got her attention and Marinette turned to her friend's smirk. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh please, Marinette. You seriously haven't thought about it? They're going to stalk you because he's into you. It's celebrity by association. Duh.”

“Celebrity by association?” Marinette repeated, rolling the words over as she thought about it.

Honestly, she hadn't thought about it until now. She already knew what it was like to be a celebrity, kind of. The cameras loved Ladybug and she was so used to it by now she didn't give it a second thought. Superheros got attention, it was standard stuff.

But to have a camera on her sans mask? Paparazzi following them on their dates? That's what would've happened if Ladybug had dated Adrien and what she had adamantly tried to avoid.

The irony of her current situation wasn't lost on her. Of course, this kind of attention was totally harmless. Hawkmoth could care less about teenage romances, but it was still a little intrusive....

She waved Alya's comment away dismissively. “You're overstating it, Alya. No one's going to care who I am.”

“Wow, Marinette” came a new voice behind them that made them jump. “For once I _actually_ agree with you. They'll be too busy wondering who his _next_ girlfriend will be to care about you.”

Marinette couldn't suppress her instincts, and a growl rumbled deep in her throat as Lila pulled up next to her. Alya crossed her arms and glared without restraint.

“You really need to not show up where you're not wanted,” Alya spat.

“Just sharing my thoughts on the matter, girls. No need to get uppity.”

“Good thing your opinion means jack shit then,” Alya retorted.

“Oh, please, you know I'm right.” Her arrogance was absolutely maddening. “He's the new heartthrob the whole _world_ wants to know. You're up against millions of people dreaming about him.”

“They can keep dreaming,” Alya spat. “And so can _you_.”

“Lila, seriously, if you're trying to get a rise out of me, it isn't going to work,” Marinette cut in. She didn't spit Alya's venom, but she wasn't going to let Alya do all the talking.

“I'm just stating the facts,” Lila stated simply with a gesture to the crowd. “There are girls out there prettier, richer and more popular than you or I.” She sneered and looked Marinette up and down once to make a point. “Do you actually think you can hold your claim on him against all of us?”

“You've done this before, Lila. Is it really not getting through to you? He's a _person_ , not a piece of _property_ ,” Marinette enunciated slowly, crossing her arms now too.

She wished Adrien would throw wide the back doors right this second, search her out and race towards her through the crowd. She needed him to prove to Lila and everyone else that he made his own calls, and no manipulative bitch could change that.

“It doesn't matter who _he_ is,” Lila pointed out. “All that matters is who you're _not_. You're _no one_ and you're no competition.”

Marinette rounded on her now, her anger flaring and her pointer finger shoving her in the shoulder.

“ _You_ need to back off, Lila.” Poke. “Not everything is a fucking game. You're abrasive and condescending and he would _never_ be into you. I don't even know why I worried about it for even a split second. You're not worth the time.” Poke.

Lila's eyes widened briefly in surprise, but soon glittered into a devious smile. “Worried?” she asked innocently. “What had you worried?”

Woops. Marinette clenched her jaw tightly, kicking herself for having said anything. If none of it happened, Lila wouldn't be able to corroborate the bits and pieces of Sabrina's story that she'd overheard.

Alya caught right on though, and jumped in, dripping sarcasm. “Oh, we were just worried you'd grown a conscience, but looks like you're good. Phew!”

“Oh, great,” Lila said with a wave. “Here I thought you were worried about Adrien kissing me yesterday.”

Marinette's heart thundered in her ears. It was a flat out lie. It had to be. Lila the liar, like always.

It didn't help explain what Sabrina had seen, but it had to be a lie. It was unbelievable that Lila would have the gaul to go to such extremes though. Marinette wasn't sure if her own anger was making her vibrate, or if Tikki was boiling in the bag at her hip. Not that it mattered.

“You're bluffing,” Alya retorted darkly.

“You wanna bet?” Lila challenged. “Because you so badly want your little love story? He hasn't even kissed you yet, Marinette. Don't you wonder _why_?”

For the first time, Marinette knew what it was like to see red. For a person she didn't like...no, despised… to know the details of her love life, to mock her, belittle her, create problems where none existed and get in her face about it...it was too much.

Lila leaned in further, taking advantage of Marinette's glowering silence. Marinette squeezed her fists tightly at her sides, her nails digging sharply into her palms.

“He's told me himself, he's not sure he wants you. Why wouldn't I see opportunity there? He's not _property_ , right?” Lila simpered.

“Adrien knows who the better woman is,” Marinette said through clenched teeth. “I'm not falling for this and neither will he.”

“Anything worth having is worth fighting for, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Remember that. If you don't play to win, someone else will.”

The two girls stared hard at eachother, the crowd, the noise, all of it reduced to white noise. Marinette had never gotten into a fight outside of costume, but now felt as good a time as any.

Before anyone could get in a retort, or a punch, the roar of the crowd grew to a new pitch and the three girls turned to see the doors open and two figures step out into the lights of flashing cameras.

* * *

It never ended! The lights blasting in Adrien's eyes momentarily blinded him and he saw nothing but a sea of heads as he stepped out the back door.

“Adrien, smile for the cameras. This is your big debut,” his father muttered from the corner of his mouth. It was advice he'd never take for himself. Gabriel's once effective stare down his nose was somewhat lost now that Adrien was just about as tall as he was but his scowl was no less imposing. It could still scare the white off rice.

“Yes, father.” It was a phrase he could say in his sleep and probably did. Adrien turned to smile in every random direction around them. Pause, smile, pivot. Pause, smile, pivot.

He knew Marinette was in this crowd somewhere but he couldn't spot her twin tails through the camera flashes. It would probably peeve his father to no end if he just started waving at her anyway, but seeing her would've been comforting in this sea of strangers. He could really use her to ground him back to sanity right about now. Between the runway and now this, it was the most media exposure he'd had to put up with to date.

The steady stream of interviewer questions did little to help.

_Are you going to take up your dad's mantle?_

_Are you going to be a designer too?_

_Where are going after high school?_

They were all shouting at him all at once and he had no idea where to start. Luckily Nathalie slipped in between them and took up the fearless role of moderator.

“One at a time, please!” she called out to the gathering. “The Agreste gentlemen only have time for a few questions.”

Adrien went into a panic for the few seconds he had before a question would be lobbed at him. He'd rehearsed almost every answer that he might need, except for one.

Did he have a girlfriend? Was he taken? Anything related to a female was going to be awkward and weird, and he still hadn't decided what to do. If he told the truth to reporters, it would also be the first his father would hear of it. It wasn't exactly the way he wanted to tell him. He couldn't even imagine the shade of red he would turn upon hearing it, especially since no girl was good enough for his perfect son.

His other option was to lie. Lie for the camera, tell his father when the moment was better and rush to apologize to Marinette for keeping it from the press. Who knows, she might even thank him for it. She didn't seem the type who'd want the spot light on her just for dating him.

He just hoped no one would ask....

“Adrien! Adrien! Tell us, is there a special someone in your life! Are you single?”

Mental facepalm. First question, _of course_.

Couldn't he just say yes and let people decide which question he was answering? That would be so perfect, and neither his father or Marinette would give it a second though.

He smiled at the reporter, a brilliant response suddenly dawning on him.

“That's a tougher question to answer than you think. School and work are really top priorities in my life right now, and they take up a lot of my time. That doesn't mean a certain someone couldn't catch me off guard if they came along.”

“But have they? Is there someone you want us all to know about?” The reporter persisted, the enthusiasm glittering in his eyes as he leaned in closer with the microphone.

 _What?_ Adrian's smile wavered.

“Um....” He glanced over at his father who only raised a terse eyebrow. _He_ even seemed to want a straight answer, and Nathalie wasn't taking a new question.

Some brilliant answer that was.

“No,” he heard himself say under his father's fierce scrutiny. “No there isn't.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank yooooou!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat comes a calling....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I was doing it because I liked how it flowed, but then I made it a personal writing challenge, but no proper names are in this chapter. Hope it doesn't get too confusing :) Needed a little break in the action!

The boy was mesmerized. He saw her on her balcony, her bluebell eyes closed to the night. The bright white slip of a moon cast her features in contrasting light and dark shadows that made her expression indiscernible. More radiant than any moon or star that shone down upon her, he hesitated to make a move towards her.

A shadow among shadows, night against night, he didn't want to startle her. His heart thundered in his chest as he let his feet resound loudly on the rooftop across the street. She turned towards the sound just in time to hear his body whisper through the air on his baton, vaulting silently towards her. She must have seen his shock of blond hair and bright green eyes clearly enough that she wasn't frightened.

For that, he was grateful. He wouldn't do anything to upset her, not tonight, not now. Not ever again.

Her hands clutched the balcony railing, and she watched in silent curiosity as he approached.

He was curious too. He had no idea what he would say to her. He hadn't planned this little visit. All he knew was that he had to see her. Had to talk to her. He missed her. Needed her.

“Good evening, Princess.” The boy perched himself on her railing, the girl's curiosity, he saw, now mingled with something else.

“Kitty.” She paused and hasted to backtrack. “I'm sorry, I mean--.”

“Kitty is cool.” It was comforting to hear her call him something so casual. So familiar. “It's kinda...nice.”

He silently admired the embarrassed blush that crept up her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

“I see a pretty girl on a lonely rooftop late at night and,” he shrugged. “I'm curious.” He spoke low and quiet, uncharacteristic of his usually rambunctious self.

“You know what they say about curious cats,” the girl replied.

“If that's the risk to make you smile, I'll take it.”

It worked. Maybe. A twitch of her lips that fell away in the space of a heartbeat. What he'd give to see her smile blossom now.

“Not sure if I have a reason to smile tonight.” The boy's heart ached to see her so upset and disappointed.

He lowered himself gently down onto her balcony, his brow furrowed beneath his mask.

“Well, you should only smile if you're happy,” he pointed out. “A little birdy told me it's your birthday tomorrow.”

She turned back towards the railing, her profile to him as she looked out over the darkened park next door. “Right before you ate it?”

He smiled. Bad jokes were still jokes, after all.

“ _Emu_ sing, Princess. Toucan play at that game.”

The boy matched her stance at the railing so he stood beside her. He would have loved to brush his arm against her, walk his fingers across the railing and take her hand in his. A strand of her hair needed some serious tucking, but it would all have to wait until the mask was off.

“It is my birthday,” she continued after a long silence. “But--I'm not really sure what to expect. Good or bad.”

“Well, it should only be good, right? I bet you have people planning an amazing day for you right now.”

She sighed heavily, and closed her eyes. “I don't know if I can take any more surprises, kitty,” she whispered.

He resisted the urge to wrap an arm around her. Every instinct wanted to hold her close, kiss her hair, her hands, her face. He knew it was his fault she was nervous now. If only he could reassure her, assuage her worry. Yes, someone head over heels for her would do something so outrageously amazing she'd be the happiest girl in Paris.

But he wasn't the guy to do that. Not the guy that was _supposed_ to do that. He had to tread carefully here. He was practically a stranger, as far as she was concerned, and she was highly unlikely to dump her sorrows on him.

“Well,” he started, “it's way past a decent bedtime, and if you don't have anyone else to talk to....” He swallowed hard. “I'm here.”

She turned her bright eyes to him and scrutinized him with an unexpected intensity. He didn't shift or waver, although unsure as to what she was searching for. Trust? Friendship? He would give her anything and everything and he hoped she knew it.

“I know you are,” she whispered. He released a silent sigh of relief. She was so perfect.…

But what was that look in her eyes? Did a part of her suspect...? No. There was nothing in her behavior to indicate she guessed who he was, but there was something else. An intensity to her response that he couldn't peg.

“What about you? How are you?” She asked like she really wanted to know his honest answer. What could she see behind his preternatural green eyes? How much of his passion for her came through? Careful now....

“I--I'm cattastic, as always, Princess.” He bowed low to show his appreciation for her concern.

She arched an eyebrow. “I haven't seen you on the news lately. There were a few akuma battles, weren't there?”

He didn't answer right away. The answer was simple now where it hadn't been before. Now the boy turn to face the park. His night vision caught sight of the copper statue in the distance, with him and his partner poised in battle. The day of it's reveal had been more than a little exciting.

He wasn't still mad at her. Not exactly. So she'd overlooked him. It sucked, but he knew his immediate reaction had been a remnant of his resentment. She had rejected him both with and without the mask, and he hadn't quite shaken it off. He thought he had, but he knew better now. He knew what moving on truly felt like.

Now he felt guilty that work had gotten in the way of his duties to her and the city. She had faired fine without him those couple of time, of course. How many times had he been turned into an Akumatized victim's lackey and she'd had to manage the whole thing by herself? Still, he'd have to make it up to her somehow....

“I guess there were,” he heard himself say, watching her profile play in the shadows of the balcony. “I must have been caught up in something else.”

“Something else?” the girl pressed.

The boy shrugged. “Life throws crazy things at you, right? It wasn't intentional.” Now he turned a rogue smirk at her. “Why? Do you like seeing me on TV?” He nudged her playfully with his elbow.

She shook her head in exasperation, but smiled again. Small, but something. “Seems funny seeing only one of you on there, is all. Two halves make a whole, right?”

It seemed like an odd comment, but he had the sneaking suspicion he knew where this was going. “We're two wholes that make big _holes_...,” he started tentatively.

“But...don't you have a...I don't know...a _thing_ for her?” She almost seemed afraid to ask, but at least she was honest. If she could tell he'd once been crazy about his partner, the whole city must know. Not that it mattered very much now anyway.

The boy brushed it off casually. “Naw, it's just playful banter. She knows that.”

“Oh. Okay.” She looked away again. “That's good, I guess.”

The boy shifted awkwardly in the lengthening silence, not sure if he should prod her with questions or just make some inane pun. He'd come to a talk to her, but talking to her like this had its limitations. There were lines he couldn't cross.

Her face upturned towards the moon, right when he started to wonder if she wanted to be left alone, she broke the silence for them. “Have you ever felt like something was too good to be true?”

There it was. The core of her worries tonight and one of the reasons he'd come. The boy hadn't had a chance to see her, hadn't had his chance to apologize and make things right. He would want to ease himself into his answer, try to coax out what he suspected was bothering her and reassure her at the same time....

“Depends on the something, right?” Answer a question with a question, first step. “Was it a surprise, or did you see it coming?”

She pursed her lips to ponder it and his eyes flickered towards the movement. “Surprise at first...maybe a little undeserving--.”

“Undeserving?” he blurted, flummoxed at the thought. Why would she ever be undeserving? This sweet, kind, supportive.... The boy shook his head, trying to clear it.

The girl sighed. “It's complicated...,” she said simply.

“Complicated how?”

“Like, too-complicated-to-talk-about complicated.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It's okay. After a while I sorta came to terms with it. Embraced it, _enjoyed_ it.” She sighed. “I didn't give it a second thought. I figured, why not count myself lucky and be happy?”

“Count yourself lucky?” he repeated slowly. The boy crossed his arms and leaned back against the railing, letting her know he was digging in for a nice long conversation. “Undeserving? Okay look, I know we don't know eachother super well, but can I take a wild ass guess right now?” He didn't wait for her to respond. “Is this about a guy?” So much for coaxing her out. Wow, he sucked at subtle.

She looked trapped for a second, and he feared he'd gone too far too soon, but the girl eventually resigned to the truth, and nodded. “Yeah, it's a guy.”

“Well, good.”

“Good?” Blink. Blink.

“Yeah, cuz well…you know, I'm a guy. I know, it's easy to forget underneath this svelte costume.” He ran his hands down his torso, flexed one bicep and rang his own bell for good measure.

She gave him her best smile so far. “I'm going to go out on a limb and say I'm an expert.”

“At what? At love?”

He leveled her a look, but pointedly chose to ignore her stunned disbelief. He'd have to file that one away for later. “No, at being a _guy_ , Principessa.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” She blushed fiercely and tried to hide it by taking a seat at the little bistro table.

“Right. So first thing's first.” He stepped away from the railing and hesitated for a heartbeat. He questioned the wisdom of his next move, but he _was_ in costume after all.

With a flourish, he went down on one knee and took the girl's hands in his. Either she was too stunned to pull away from him or...she was too stunned to pull away. He would take it.

“Any guy would be lucky to have _you_ , Princess. Not the other way around.”

Her surprise faded, but she didn't move away. Her hands relaxed in his but her eyes turned to the floor between them. “I don't know, kitty. I'm kind of a mess....”

“No, you're really not. You're kind and considerate, funny, smart--”

“How do you know? We've only met a couple of times.” It wasn't a probing question, just curious.

“It only took the first time....” His words were an echo from a distant memory...when had he once said the very same thing...?

“What?” She blinked hard again.

“Nothing. Look, just trust me, I know an amazing girl when I see one?”

Now the girl crossed her arms and legs and smirked down at him. “Do you now?”

“I do,” he insisted.

“You seem more like the type that thinks _all_ girls are amazing.”

“What does _that_ mean?” he asked affronted.

“Oh you know, a flirty, showy, stud muffin type.”

“Well… I _am_ the cat's meow,” he joked, polishing his knuckles on his suit.

Now she laughed and her eyes sparkled. Whatever happened, this little rendezvous was a minor victory.

“You're a show off, kitty, and you know it.”

“I'm a show _man_ ,” he corrected. “It doesn't make me any less qualified to know a great girl when I meet one. I'll bet anything this guy you're thinking about thinks the same way.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

“I'll bet one of my nine lives on it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Wow, hell of a bet.”

It was his turn to laugh. “Okay, okay. Just wait and see if I'm right, okay? If he doesn't, he has his head up his ass and isn't worth your time.”

The girl sighed. “Oh, kitty, you really don't know this guy. He's pretty damn amazing.”

The boy hoped his rising blush was properly hidden behind his mask. He wasn't unaccustomed to compliments, but to hear her say it made his stomach flip. Another few hours and he could show this girl how amazing _she_ really was.

“He's just a guy, princess,” the boy reassured her. “He's not perfect, none of us are. He'll make mistakes and fall over himself to make it right.”

“Every guy is like that? Really?”

“If they have half a brain,” he shrugged. “Trust me. You're worth it.”

The girl sighed but the hints of a smile and a better mood lingered around her bright eyes. “Thank you, kitty. I'll let you know how it goes down, okay?” She punched him playfully on the arm. “What about you? Are you looking for love?”

“Who me?” He waved his hand dismissively. “Pft. I'm good with love. I keep busy. Hobbies, friends, _stuff_.”

The girl leaned back in her chair and the boy adjusted himself by her feet, sitting and leaning against the railing, arms wrapped around his legs. They both settled into a comfortable conversation, and the lateness of the hour meant little to either of them.

“What kind of stuff?” she asked curiously. “What does the mystery man do for fun?”

The boy must have stared at her blankly for an unusually long time, because the girl started to look nervous. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to get too personal. You're in a mask for a reason.…”

“No, no, it's cool. I just-- no one's ever asked me so I don't really know how to answer.” It was his turn to look embarrassed.

He knew what to say _outside_ costume, but what was too much information _in_ costume? Surely the girl knew him well enough that anything he said would be a dead giveaway.

“First time for everything, right?” Her eyes glittered.

“Pawsitivly.” He tapped one black clawed finger against his lips as he thought about it. “I do _this_ for fun?” he ventured. “No akumas tonight, but here I am!” He expanded his arms to show that he was proof of a good time.

The girl looked doubtful. “Is that all?”

“I don't know. I work a lot, so I don't always have time for myself, I guess. ”

“Oh. Well then...what would you _like_ to do?”

The boy twitched his tail and let his ears flatten as he lowered his chin to his knees. He pursed his own lips pensively, and tried to prevent the girl's intense gaze from distracting him. He could watch her watch him all night; both wonderful and incredibly unproductive.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “I really don't know.”

“No passions? Nothing that excites you?” she insisted.

The boy feigned ignorance. “What is your biggest passion?”

“Fashion design,” she replied instantly. “Having all the creative freedom I could possibly imagine and making it come to life!” Her whole posture changed when she spoke of it, her back straightening and her hands gaining animation. “Seeing people wear it and loving it. I don't really care if I'm famous or anything, that would just be a perk. But a real, full blown fashion designer with my own line. It would be so amazingly _awesome_ ,” she said, singing the last word like an opera note and grinning.

“Wow, well okay then”, he laughed. “I don't do anything I'm _that_ crazy about. I might try baking? Seems cool....”

“Baking? Like my dad?”

“If it means my house would always smell like yours, hells to the yes.”

She laughed and her eyes glittered happily in the moonlight. It would be amazing to see those eyes again tomorrow, looking at him without his mask. His eyes flickered all over her features, unbelieving that _he_ could be so lucky. _Him_. The opposite of luck, the personification of _bad luck_.

They talked for hours, just a boy and a girl. They barely noticed the moon's fading light giving way to the rich red hues of the rising dawn. All concept of time escaped them, each for their own reasons.

Helplessly and hopelessly, the boy found himself falling in love. This girl had no secrets, no mysteries. She didn't swoop around saving the world in obvious ways. No, she saved them on quiet rooftops in the middle of the night. This was a girl he could learn more and more about with each passing day. He could share in her hopes and dreams and soon, so very soon, she would be his.

For her part, the girl was enraptured with how little she knew about the boy she had instinctively trusted the moment she'd met him. He had a depth to him she wanted to explore, something she had too easily dismissed for too long. He was more than a masked hero she worked with. Wasn't he her best friend too?

And so a new day, full of hope, broke upon a simple boy and a simple girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lest we forget this story is about one boy and one girl :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	5. Chapter 5

“Happy birthday, Marinette!”

Sabine poked her head up through the door in her bedroom floor, looking around and expecting to find her daughter already up and about. She heard a groan coming up from the loft above and grinned.

“Thanks, mom,” Marinette called sleepily. It took all her effort to open her mouth. She was achy all over and her eyes felt gritty. Was it really only a couple of hours ago that she had gone to bed? This was bad. So bad.

“Woops, sorry dear. Come on down whenever you're ready and I'll fix you up a birthday breakfast.”

Marinette heard the door click behind her, and snuggled in tighter under her pillows.

“Happy birthday, Marinette,” Tikki singsonged in a quiet whisper. Her cheek snuggled against Marinette's until she cracked a smile.

“Thanks, Tikki.” She cracked one eye open to see the ever cheerful red face of her kwame.

“You're going to end up sleeping the day away, you know?”

“I know, I know. Just a little longer would be _amazing_ though.”

She stretched long and hard and felt the need for a few more hours of sleep. Seeing the sunrise with Chat hadn't been the original plan, after all. How did his spontaneity manage to rub off on her so easily?

It was a fortunate meeting, in its own way though. It hadn't leant her the opportunity to apologize for her failure to tell him about the book. She still felt she owed him more than a lame apology. As much as he seemed to be over it now....

Like wow, _way_ over it now.… Like, what happened that he'd gotten over Ladybug recently? That was news. She hadn't seen him recently to gauge any difference in him, but she had seriously started to think that maybe he might genuinely like her....

Not like she necessarily minded if he didn't, of course. He could be annoying and shameless so last night he had only confirmed her first instinct; it had always just been _playful banter_. She'd always suspected he was an attention seeking ladies' man anyway, and it turned out she was right.

What the long night _had_ offered was a chance to get to know him. Even if he didn't know it, Ladybug _did_ care, dammit, and she wanted to know one of her best friends better. People didn't just fight side by side and risk their lives for each other without forming a deep bond. How many times had he leapt in front of her when she was in danger? He was a true friend that Ladybug was lucky to have, and she needed to seriously step up.

Now, after last night, he was turning out to be a true friend to Marinette too. He'd managed to somehow smooth over her anxieties about Adrien. Whatever Sabrina had seen had obviously not really left her. She never should have risen to Lila's bait otherwise, but that girl just got under her skin like a tick. Maybe she _would_ have walked away unfazed had it not been for Adrien's public statement.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized what a tough position he must have been in with his dad and all those cameras there. If she didn't know herself better, and know that she _might_ overdramatize things now and again, Chat's advice would've fallen on deaf ears. As it was, she knew good advice when she heard it and she decided to take it now.

So overall, it was a great night, but she would obviously be paying for it today. Badly.

“Alya will be counting on me, huh? To like...function and stuff?”

“Probably. Maybe you shouldn't have been up all night, huh?” Tikki teased. She had already been asleep when Chat had swooped in, but Marinette had rustled her awake with the breaking dawn.

“Yeah, yeah. It's not like I was out partying. I was on my _roof_.”

“It'll still make things rough,” Tikki chided. “Come on, maybe when you start moving, you'll feel better. I hear Alya has a full day planned for you!”

Marinette threw off her blankets with a lazy flourish, stretched and yawned one more time, and padded down to her room below. She stepped in front of her vanity to inspect the damage of a sleepless night. She looked like hell, as expected.

“Maybe I'll try a different look today. Its my birthday, right? I'm allowed.”

“What are you thinking?” Tikki pulled at one of her twin tails, all desheveled from the night before. She'd been too exhausted to even undo her hair.

“A bun? A pony?” Marinette focused intently on her reflection, like her life depended on it.

“How about down?” Tikki ventured.

“You think?”

“Sure, let loose, Marinette. Be a rebel! Live on the _wild_ side!” Tikki giggled and rolled her eyes.

“Okay, now you're just making fun of me.”

“Ya think?” she squeaked.

“Yeah, okay, small words and easy decisions from now until after my shower. _Capiche?_ ”

“Gesundheit!”

* * *

“Adrien, are you still sleeping?”

“Mmmmmmeeeeeeeh.” His head thoroughly buried beneath his pillow didn't help block out Natalie's voice from the hallway.

“It's getting late. You should really be up by now.”

“It's Saturday!” he called out, not sure and not caring if Nathalie could even hear him.

“No excuses! And your father would like a word with you. Get ready.”

He groaned long and hard one more time, one that really rattled his chest. He threw one leg out from beneath his covers and stopped.

“Adrien!” Damn, she was good.

“Okay, okay! Fifteen minutes!” He didn't even bother to throw the blankets off him. He slithered out of his bed with the least amount of effort and plopped onto the floor with a thunk. “Holy hell, I'm tired,” he mumbled, checking the clock to see he'd only slept for three hours. “Shiiiit.”

Plagg yawned wide next to him, his whole head practically disappearing behind his maw. “Yeah well, it's not like you weren't enjoying yourself, _lover boy_.”

Adrien smirked despite his scratchy eyes and achy head. It _had_ been _fantastic_. He couldn't get enough of that girl. He never would have left if not for her droopy eyes and frequent yawns. They'd watched the sunrise together and he'd used all his willpower not to wrap an arm around her and kiss her.

When he was bounding back home, he had a chance to reflect on how odd the whole thing was, in a good way. They'd talked more in a single conversation than they ever had when he was Adrien.

He could only guess, but maybe it was because neither of them were self conscious when he was disguised. Outside of his mask, they were crazy about each other. That was okay...no, it was _more_ than okay, but there were certain expectations between a guy and girl when they liked each other, right? Always at their best, always saying the right things, always perfect.

As Chat, he didn't feel obligated to be perfect. It was refreshing and as invigorating as his first ever transformation. He said things without worrying about the consequences, because he didn't want her to fall in love with Chat.

The idea of building a friendship with her as his alter ego, and then being her boyfriend as Adrien was the most picture perfect, cheesy movie-esque romantic, and awesomest thing _ever_. Who knew, maybe one day she would find out his secret and the twain would meet so perfectly, she'd love both sides of him and they'd live happily ever after.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” he muttered, falling back onto the floor and stretching long and hard.

“Yeah, well, wouldn't you rather see her without the mask? It's her birthday today. You have sooo many chances to get all smoochy.”

Adrien smiled dreamily. “Yep, I'm going, I'm going.” There was no better motivation than seeing her. He had to make sure everything was perfect for tonight too. It had been one hell of a whirlwind, but he thought he had everything in place for a romantic birthday dinner tonight.

Fifteen minutes later, almost to the second, Adrien was down in the massive dining room, sitting himself down to a hot breakfast.

Every instinct told him to just shovel the food in and fly out of the house, but he ate as politely and properly as he'd been taught to. Unfortunately this gave his father ample time to wander in at the other end of the room. However, instead of staying on the far end of the table as he normally would, Gabriel took long strides down the room and stood almost directly over his son.

Adrien's mouth went dry and his eggs went down hard. When his father towered over him like this, peering at him over the top of his glasses, it was a beacon of bad news.

Adrien shrank in his chair, ever so slightly. “Good morning, father.” He hated how meek his voice sounded, but there it was.

“Adrien. Seven thousand euros?”

“What?” He blinked hard, not making an immediate connection.

“You spent seven thousand euros in three days. Explain.”

“Oh that!” He was prepared for this. Sort of. “Some friends and I are throwing a birthday party--”

“Don't lie to me,” Gabriel interrupted, his countenance darkening to a frightening degree.

“Lie!?” Damn, his voice cracked higher than he intended. “I'm not lying, father!”

“The boat rental? Fine. The fireworks. Fine. But the dinner for two? And the string quartet? Who the hell is she, Adrien.” It was less of a question and more of a demand.

“It's not a big deal--”

“Its _absolutely_ a big deal. I won't have my son whoring himself around Paris and sweet talking every _bimbo_ he comes across--”

Adrien shot up out of his chair before he could think, and slammed his fists hard into the table, rattling his dishes. “She is _not_ a bimbo! And I am not whoring myself!”

Gabriel's eyes widened in surprise but his frown only deepened. “Don't play me for a fool, Adrien. I know what kids are up to these days. All of your friends are a bad influence, I've told you this from the _beginning_.”

“They are not--”

“Partying, drinking, having _fun_ , getting pregnant--”

“Father, that's--”

“I won't see my son's whole future disappear because he decided to let loose with some high school slut--.”

“I love her!” he yelled out. His words echoed in the great room. It was the first time he said it out loud and it felt more true now than in his head. He used his father's stunned silence to repeat himself more quietly. “I love her, father.”

“Love? What makes you think you know what love is?”

Adrien finally cast his eyes down, not from shame, but from searching. Searching for the right words. “I just... _know_. I know it in my heart. I _love_ her.”

Gabriel was silent for a long moment and Adrien finally looked up at him, to check to see if his response actually worked.

No, that was not the look of a man convinced.

“Adrien, you might think you know love, but I'll tell you now, no girl you know is good enough for you.”

“That's not tr--”

“It is true. You are my _son_ and worthy of amazing things. Amazing people. You're not going to settle at sixteen and ruin your whole life. You're not ready for love, or what you _think_ is love.”

Adrien clenched his fists and fought back the burning behind his eyes. “You don't know what love is, father. You lock me up, _shelter_ me, _dress_ me up like a doll, don't know a fucking _damned_ thing _about_ me and pretend you know _love_?”

Gabriel's fist thundered down on the table, harder than Adrien's had, hard enough to topple the flowered vase nearby. His eyes blazed with an anger Adrien had never seen before.

“Everything I do is for love, Adrien!” he roared with a such ferocity that it frightened him back a few steps. “ _Everything._ ”

Adrien was stunned motionless and breathless, his eyes locked on the man he knew to be his father, but seeing a darker layer he had never known before.

Gabriel straightened and glowered with the full force of a righteous parent. “You will _not_ be leaving the house today, Adrien. Nor tomorrow. You will forget this girl and she will forget you. Do you hear me?”

Adrien swallowed hard, inclined to shake his head stubbornly. What would happen if he kept pushing? What chaos would break loose?

Instead, he did nothing. He always did nothing. He stood stock still, let his father's eyes pierce him for a moment longer, before Gabriel turned on his heels and stormed out of the room.

The silence that following was deafening. Adrien bent low over the table, clenched fists bracing himself up. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. It wasn't the way his father should've found out. Would it have mattered if he knew the girl was Marinette? Not likely... Not if no girl he knew was good enough...

He should've been able to bring Marinette over for a proper introduction as his girlfriend, a proper dinner with the three of them. Now he was just left with a mess. He couldn't _do_ this to him, he was sixteen years old--

Adrien lifted the plate that contained his half eaten breakfast and threw it with full force against the wall. There was no satisfaction in watching it shatter.

* * *

“Honey, what are to doing?”

Tom Dupain stood on the top of a ladder in his little bakery, putting the finishing Eiffel tower cupcake on the top of the...well…Eiffel tower.

“The truck is coming soon to bring this to the hotel. I'd rather assemble it here so I can fix anything quickly.” He gingerly climbed down one cautious step at a time, stepping back to review his work. “It's sturdy, these cupcakes are all skewered to the framework. ”

Sabine came up beside him and tucked herself against his chest to admire it. “It's amazing, I really can't believe you did it.”

“ _We_ did it. I'd be in trouble without you, honey.”

“And the carpenter,” Sabine reminded him.

“Yeah, he was a _lifesaver_.”

Two hundred little Chloe Bourgeoises looked down on them from their towers and they both silently wondered what sixteen year old girl had _this_ many guests to serve.

“You know, if Marinette sees this, you'll end up upsetting her,” Sabine warned.

“I know, I know--.”

“Seriously,” Sabine emphasized flatly. “Chloe has been a thorn in her side since they were kids. Then here you go, busting yourself for the girl.”

“I'll tell you the same thing I told her. I'm not doing this for free.”

“Knowing her, she'll insist we keep every penny of it for all the hard work we did, and she'll work herself to tears trying to get those scholarships.”

Tom shook his head. “I won't let her do that. She'll enjoy herself and her friends, work herself _reasonably_ hard and I'll be here to help if she needs it.”

Sabine patted her husband's arm reassuringly, not agreeing or disagreeing with him. “I'm guessing Marinette's cake is even more fantastic than this one?”

“Haven't finished it yet, but as soon as this one is shipped off, I'll have time for it. It's not as big of course, but I hope she loves it.”

“Not a million little Marinettes on cupcakes, I hope?” Sabine teased.

“Funny you should mention that.”

Tom pulled out a small molded figure of his daughter from his apron pocket. Better than any single rendering of Chloe on the massive cake, a little perfect Marinette stood happily in his palm. He had worked meticulously to get this one just right, all the way from her twin tails, to her little hands clenched in front of her, and the slight back kick of her foot.

“Aww,” Sabine gingerly lifted it from his palm and turned it to admire his handiwork. “This is really fine work, honey. I didn't know you were a sculpture in miniatures.”

Tom laughed. “I wasn't, but when you do two hundred of _her_ , I got some practice.”

Sabine laughed. “How about you _get_ yourself some sleep when this cake is out of here?” She puckered up and Tom bent down so his cheek met her lips. “I'm heading out to get her some fresh strawberries for breakfast. She's upstairs getting ready now.”

“You could've let her sleep in, you know.”

“And have her miss her _whole_ day? Wouldn't dream of it.”

Sabine left the little shop, and Tom heard the familiar thunk of the pipes as Marinette started the shower upstairs. Good. The truck would be here in minutes and Marinette would never see this fully assembled behemoth. He looked down at the little figurine of his daughter, smiling fondly at it as if she were the real thing, and slid it into his apron pocket.

He turned towards the knock at the front door, expecting to see strong men in moving gear.

The Mayor and Chloe Bourgeois were visible on the other side of the glass. His stomach dropped at the sight of the girl's snide smirk, a permanent fixture on her face for as long as he'd known her. The Mayor fidgeted and shifted nervously beside her, and Tom kept his eyes locked on his as he stepped forward to unlock the front door.

“Ah Tom, glad to see you're up and about!” the Mayor exclaimed in a poor attempt at cheerfulness.

“Well, yes, Mr. Mayor. I was just finishing up and waiting for the movers you were sending over. ”

Chloe jumped in before her father could reply. “Daddy said you were making my cake and that it was _just_ what I wanted.” The girl checked her nails as if already bored with the whole thing. “I _reminded_ him that it is _my_ birthday and _I'll_ decided what _I_ want.” She smiled sweetly at her father and Tom inadvertently grimaced at her easy manipulation of the man. “Right, daddy?”

“Right you are, Chloe. May we come in, Tom.” The Mayor pushed through without further permission. “Now Chloe, remember that artist's rendering we did of your cake?”

Tom stepped aside and the two of them stood before the cupcake Eiffel tower masterpiece that stood before them. Tom knew what the cake looked like, so his eyes were dead set on Chloe and her every facial twitch.

Her eyes lit up for a second as she stepped forward and took one of the cupcakes. The light abruptly fizzled.

“What is this _thing_? Is it supposed to be _me_?” She frowned deeply.

Tom had been careful to put his best little models of her in the front so the one in Chloe's hand was one of the best. Not as good as his Marinette, but the little version of the girl was still near perfect.

“Let me see, darling.” The Mayor reached out to take the model and Tom noticed he was at first impressed. “Wow, this is truly well--” One glance at his daughter made him pause. “Chloe dear, what do you think?”

She sneered and jutted out a stubborn hip. “Daddy, why would you _ever_ think the masterpiece _I_ designed could be made by a total amateur.”

Tom stopped breathing. He numbly watched the exchange before him, hoping beyond hope that this wouldn't effect him in any way.

“But Chloe dear,” the Mayor started nervously, fumbling with his fingers like a fool, “Mr. Dupain here is the best baker in all of Paris. I would only get the best for _you_.”

Chloe waved her hand dismissively. “Best in _Paris_ , daddy? _Really?_ There are bakers all over the _world_ better than this guy. Is that all I'm worth to you?”

“Of course not, dear! But you remember, you gave me your design three days--.”

“I don't care!” Chloe exclaimed, stomping her foot like a stubborn mule. “This is unacceptable, daddy! It's shoddy workmanship and I don't _want_ it!”

Tom watched as the girl started to storm out of his store. What was happening right now? It was happening too fast for him to react.... Surely the Mayor wouldn't allow this to pass....

“But Chloe dear, this is a perfectly good sculpture.” The Mayor hurried after her. “I bet the cupcakes are absolutely delicious, and the wood scaffolding alone--.”

“Daddy, I said let's go! Let him donate it to the needy or something. I don't _care_.”

“You won't have a cake for your birthday, sweetheart. I--”

“I'm sure you'll figure something out.”

The Mayor was in such a hurry to rush out the door that he nearly forgot about Tom. He turned at the door, and Tom was sure he looked as dazed as he felt.

“I'll compensate you for the materials, Mr. Dupain.”

“The materials?” Tom repeated.

“Yes, the baking goods and wood--.”

“What about the compensation we discussed, Mr. Mayor?” Now Tom tottered a few steps towards the door to stop the man from leaving. “This was a huge deal to me and my family.”

The Mayor's eyes hardened suddenly, a look that was utterly nonexistent around his daughter. “ _That_ was upon the delivery of the final product, Mr. Dupain. I'm afraid said delivery will _not_ be happening. Good day.”

“But Mr. Mayor--!”

The door slammed with finality. Tom stood with his arm still outstretched towards the door, ready to beseech the Mayor, or the girl, or anyone.

The silence in the shop was deafening. He closed his eyes and felt the room around him close in on all sides. He'd closed the shop for a few days....he'd worked day in and day out…

This couldn't be happening....Tom felt his legs give out from under him and found a chair just in time. He couldn't even look at that damned cake anymore. He hung his head low, bracing his elbows on his knees, trying to stay calm...stay positive...stay….

He looked down at his apron and the little figurine of his daughter smiled up at him. His beautiful happy daughter. His whole world. His whole reason for doing everything he did. Tears burned in his eyes as he turned the little figure over in his hands. For her. Everything.

And now there was nothing.... Nothing to show for everything he'd worked so hard for. That nightmare of a girl and that miserable excuse for a father.... They'd blown into his shop like a hurricane and left nothing but ruin.

It was so easy for people like them to not care what hard work was. It was so easy for them to take advantage, to be dismissive and step on the rest of the world. The injustice of it was so mind boggling he could hardly think straight…..

* * *

**_Ah, Baker, the love of a father knows no bounds, does it? The world doesn't understand all that you do, all that you strive so hard for. Make them see, Baker. Make them all see what a father would do for love._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I did not expect this to become a daddy chapter ^_^ 
> 
> After reading some comments, here are some quick footnotes! Gabe doesn't know its Marinette and he's not in a place to care because Adrien lied to him about it. Lying is bad. 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya all! It's been a while since I posted, and honestly, the string of comments for the last chapter kind of froze me from writing, for fear I was writing my characters "wrong." But I love writing this story, and I do it for fun, so I started up again ^_^ If you find that anything is out of character than what you would imagine, my apologies and please consider this an AU. There are so many episodes and so many nuances that I can't possibly consider them all AND enjoy writing at the same time. I have a story in my head that I really want to share so here goes....
> 
> C'est la vie! Hope you enjoy! XOXO and I'll never stop looking forward to your comments ^_^

“So what time are you gonna be ready? I have an agenda that'll blow your mind, girl.”

“Another ten minutes, I think?” Marinette assumed the eyeliner applying position, mouth slightly ajar and one eye open, as Alya watched her from her phone. “What's this amazing agenda?”

“That's something for _me_ to know and for _you_ to find out. I haven't even told Nino because he'll just rat me out.”

“Yeah he will. Nice work covering your ass.”

Alya shrugged. “You learn the hard way.”

“So just you and Nino then?” Marinette was careful to look cool and calm but she'd never fool Alya.

Alya smirked, knowing full well how Adrien's little publicity stunt had effected her. “Noo, as far as I know, it'll be the _four_ of us. Adrien has a thing to do _later_ , but we'll have the day together.”

“Yesss,” Marinette sighed, and closed her eyes in pure joy. “I'll feel a million times better about _everything_ when we're together.”

“I know, I know. You need a little morality boost to remember how much he's jonesing for you. I get it.”

“Yeah, well, while I _do_ appreciate all of your reassurances, it's totally different coming straight from him, you know?”

“True that. We'll come pick you up in fifteen then, k? I'll wrangle the troops and we'll pick you up.”

“Perfect! See you soon!”

Tikki flitted into view when Marinette hung up and twirled around in excitement. If Marinette could fly, she'd likely be doing the same thing.

“So exciting!” she squeaked. “All day with your best friends and Adrien! You couldn't ask for a better birthday gift!”

“I know. I couldn't ask for better friends,” Marinette grinned.

She looked out the window at the gorgeous day outside, all sunshine and those big puffy white clouds. Hopefully they'd still be around when she and Adrien were laying in the grass so they could call out stupid random shapes they saw. Maybe that's when he'd kiss her. Was the park in Alya's agenda? She really really _really_ hoped so.

She was pulling and proding at her hair, wanting to do something different but not sure what, when a crash two stories below startled her into dropping her brush.

They shared a moment of stunned silence. “What do you suppose _that_ was?” She was already up and moving towards her door, the sudden silence that followed startling her even more. “Stay here, Tikki. I'll be right back.”

Tikki nodded and fidgeted nervously as Marinette disappeared.

The floor beneath her room was quiet. Her mom wasn't puttering around the kitchen like she had expected. One look outside the living room window stopped her in her tracks.

Instead of a room with a beautiful view, something was forming outside the glass and rising from the bottom up. Marinette raced to the window, only able to open it a jar from the top down and poked at the substance.

“Bread?” Her eyes widened in fear. “Why is there bread...? _Dad?_ ”

She ran down the steps that lead to the back of the bakery and skidded to a halt at the destruction strewn around in chaos. Every ingredient, every bowl, tool, and knife had been thrown in a cacophony around the room. And cupcakes. Cupcakes, crumbled and whole, chocolate, vanilla and red velvet, festooned the room like some really bad decorating decision.

“Dad!” Marinette rushed towards the front of the store seeing the back deserted. The glass storefront of the bakery had shattered inwards, and every glass case that housed her dad's delectable treats had shattered with it. She stepped carefully across the sparkling and dangerous carpet, her jaw slack in awe at the complete and total destruction of their shop. There wasn't much of a front door left to open, but there would be nowhere to go anyway. The same bready stuff that had been upstairs had started from down here, and the entire first floor was encased by it.

Her fingers clawed frantically at the bread, pulling out desperate clumps and chunks in her effort to see daylight. The silence of the still shop was frightening, her frantic breathes and heartbeat filling her ears as her mind raced with all that could have gone wrong for this to happen.

Could her own dad, Ladybug's own flesh and blood, have been akumatized? It was invasive and violating to think that Hawkmoth had come into _her_ house and stolen _her_ dad.

Her mounting anger and frustration was interrupted by the sharp, booming base of laughter that erupted from just outside the store.

“Dad? Dad!” For every chunk of bread she had pulled out, a chunk had grown back to replace it. She screamed through the barrier at the top of her lungs. The familiar sound of her father's laughter rang with a new frightening twist, giving new edge to her fear.

“Dad! Is that you?! Get me out of here!”

“I hear you, sweetheart!” the warped but familiar voice of Tom Dupain called back. “You stay safe and sound at home, okay? Your Papa has some things he needs to take care of.”

“Dad, please!” she pleaded, pounding in frustration against the bread barrier. “You can't do this! This is wrong!”

“So many things are wrong in this world, honey. Keeping you safe and sound isn't one of them. You stay there while I take care of a few... _things_.” The cackling laughter rang loud and clear at first before fading away. The distant sound of screams reached her ears, but only just barely.

Marinette clawed desperately at the bread again as her thoughts frantically sorted through what could have happened. The kitchen, the shop, the ingredients, the cupcakes. The cupcakes. Did this have to do with Chloe's cake...? It _had_ to.

Marinette raced back up the stairs, her anger flaring at the near certainty that Chloe had something to do with this. She almost _always_ had something to do with it.

The windows in the living room were already completely covered over by the bread and continued to race upwards at a startling pace.

“Marinette!” Tikki screeched as she zipped to meet her at the top of the ladder. “We can't get out!”

Tikki didn't have to tell her twice. In the short time she had been downstairs, the bread had crept past her huge bedroom window, sending the room into darkness. She climbed through and flipped on a light. There wasn't a second to loose. She bounded towards the ladder to her loft, hoping beyond hope her last exit was clear.

She grunted hard as her shoulder made impact with the hatch. It didn't budge. She shoved and pushed again with all her strength, setting her feet on the mattress and pushing up against it with her back, but it didn't even creak in recognition of her efforts. It only took another minute of exertion for her to know it was futile. She sat down hard on the bed and covered her face in frustration.

“Marinette, what's going on? What is that stuff?”

She spoke through her closed fingers, her voice catching in her dry throat. “Dad's been akumatized. He's surrounded the house with some stupid bread. We can't break through.”

“We have to transform!” Tikki cried urgently, without hesitation. “We have to get out to help him!”

“No, we can't,” she chocked out.

“What? Why? Ladybug could punch out of here in a second!” Tikki cried desperately.

“Everyone knows I'm in here, Tikki. Mom, Alya, the boys. I can't just blast out of here as Ladybug.” She peered through her fingers when her stricken kwame gasped. “They'll be looking for Marinette.”

Tikki landed softly on a pillow next to her, each of them pensively silent as they riddled through their predicament. “We haven't tried your new power yet. Can you shrink down into a little Ladybug?”

Marinette shook her head. “There isn't a single crack in this stuff. It doesn't matter how small I am.” Marinette sounded as hopeless as she felt. “And it still leaves an empty house when Ladybug is out saving the day.”

“But no one will know it's empty,” Tikki insisted. “No one can get in.”

“Chat Noir can,” Marinette reminded her. “Someone will tell him I'm stuck in here and he could cataclysm this stuff right off. Where would Marinette be then?”

Tikki froze, and shrank down hopelessly onto the pillow too. “Not here...,” she whispered.

“I'm not ready for the world to know who I am, Tikki.”

“So what do we do? Just wait?”

It was almost unheard of for both of them, and sounded weird said aloud. They never just sat and _waited_ to be saved. That was _not_ their MO. But what choice did they have?

“We wait,” Marinette confirmed, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. The only relief was in knowing they _would_ be saved, without a doubt. “Chat will be here soon, I'm sure of it.”

* * *

Step 1: Listen for Nathalie's crisp speaker voice over the intercom.

“Adrien?”

Step 2: Press Button

Step 3: Start frustrated drawl and eye roll.

“Present.”

Just like that. They'd only done it a third time so far, but he already knew all the steps by heart.

Nathalie had been directed to check in on him every ten to fifteen minutes and she was diligent. So diligent, in fact, that he'd been taking a leak during a check in and she had come knocking two minutes later. At least she hadn't stuck the Gorilla in here. _That_ was a brand of obnoxious he'd never get used to.

Still, this was a whole new level of imprisonment that sunk his relationship with his father to a new low. He knew it would be too much to hope for, that he'd be okay with him having a girlfriend. A profession like his made his single status more desirable. Better for the _brand_.

But to assume the girl he liked was some high school slut? To not even ask who she was or if he _knew_ her? This was a new degree of over protectiveness that Adrien could hardly make sense of. For his father to loosen the reigns only to tighten them again....

At this rate, he wasn't even sure if it would've helped his cause to reveal it was Marinette. Sure she had impressed him with a few of her designs, but girlfriend approval wasn't predicated by that. His father was excellent at separating professional and personal opinions and Adrien was pretty sure Marinette wouldn't be an exception.

But it didn't mean he would give up. Not by a long shot. As soon as his father cooled down, he had to try again. He _had_ to talk to him. But it didn't solve the immediate problem of his being absent for her birthday today....

His stomach flipped as he looked at his cell phone for the hundredth time already. The nauseousness crept back up into his throat at the thought of having to call Alya now and explain things. He still wasn't sure what to say or how to say it.

Taking a deep breathe, he grabbed his phone and took the plunge.

“Hey, Adrien,” Alya said cheerfully.

“Bro!” Nino nudged in from the side and grinned ear to ear. “We're on our way over to get you. You ready?”

Alya's cheerfulness disappeared at the sight of Adrien's expression.

“It's not happening today guys.”

“What? Why?” It looked like the pair had stopped walking to better catch his every word. Alya looked stricken enough for both her and Marinette and his heart ached knowing how disappointing this would be for the one person in the world he didn't want to disappoint.

“My father. He uh...knows there's a girl.…” So the truth then.

“So?” Alya pressed. “What happened? You told him it was Marinette, right? He totally approved because she's a kick ass designer and is _awesome_.”

Adrien shook his head and swallowed thickly. “He doesn't know its Marinette.”

“Well, tell him it's Marinette!”

He heard Nino quietly ask Alya to chill off camera, and it looked like Alya sat down hard on a bench.

“I can and I will, but I don't think it'll matter right now. His head is somewhere else, guys. I don't think _any_ girl would be up to his standards.”

“Marinette _loves_ your dad. Idolizes him! This will devastate her!” Alya cried.

“And the fact that she can't date you is a _big_ drawback too, bro.”

“You can't tell her, Alya. Nino, you too,” he told the eyeball peeping around the edge of the screen. “This _would_ devastate her and I want to fix it before she finds out. I will fix it! It...just…might not happen… _today_.”

“Ugh!” Alya cried. “Your dad is so unpredictable! He's cool and then he's not! So what? He's got you locked up now?”

Now there was a small truth to withhold about his father's rant. Alya and Nino didn't need to know the full extent of his father's unreasonableness.

“Yeah, house arrest, for blowing some money on Marinette's birthday stuff.”

“Jeez, it's not like he can't wipe his ass with hundred euro notes or anything,” Alya grumbled, earning an elbow to the rib.

“I know, I know. But I don't think it's about the money. He's just acting out, taking something out on me. I feel terrible that this will ruin Marinette's birthday... I don't know what to tell her....”

Alya bit her lip and looked at Nino sidelong. “We'll talk to her. Maybe we can tell her you had work or something, okay?” The two of them stood up again and appeared to be walking. “Something you had to do for your dad.”

“Yeah, whatever model work you models do,” Nino agreed.

“You will?” Adrien could have reached out and hugged them through the phone. “Thank you so so much, guys! This means a lot.”

Adrien felt a wave of relief at the prospect they would cover for him. He didn't want to lie to Marinette about this whole thing. That was no way to start any relationship. But the only way to avoid lying would be to avoid talking to her at all. He'd have to sort this out quickly.

“But fix this!” Alya reminded him sharply in her no nonsense way. “Talk to your dad even if it annoys the shit out of him. This is the girl of your dreams and she's totally--”

“Wooooooaaaaah, what the fuck is that, babe!” Nino cried from somewhere off camera. Adrien watched as Alya looked up at something in front of them.

“What the fuck happened to the bakery?!” she asked in alarm.

Adrien's heart thundered in his chest and he wished she would flip the camera around. “What bakery? Marinette's bakery?”

“Yeah, it looks like a giant loaf of bread!”

“What?!” Adrien's cry echoed in his large bedroom. Plagg jerked up from his nap, looking around in a sleepy, dopey daze.

“I hope she's okay--”

“I gotta go guys.” Adrien hung up but his friends were too distracted to even notice.

“Marinette's at home, Plagg. We have to go help her.”

“A loaf of bread, huh? Sounds like she _kneads_ us.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, thrusting his fist before him.

“Wait! Nathalie!” Plagg cried out.

Shit. Nathalie would call back between five to ten minutes. He rushed over to the intercom and took three steadying breathes, hoping his hammering heart didn't transmit.

“Nathalie?”

“Yes, Adrien,” she replied immediately.

“I'm going to go shower, maybe take a bath, okay? In case you call and don't hear from me.”

“Okay, Adrien. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Thanks, Nathalie.”

He clicked off and shrugged at the skeptical look on Plagg's face. “What? It's the model in me. Plagg, claws out!”

* * *

It really was a great big loaf of bread. Chat stopped in his tracks and grimaced at it from a nearby rooftop. It was a delicious toasty brown and looked hot out of the oven. He was surprised to see that the surrounding area was devoid of people, given the situation and strange attraction. His ears picked up shouts and cries, but they seemed to be miles away. He'd have to help them after he took care of this crumby situation.

His feet never touched the ground as he bounded onto the balcony he had left just a few short hours ago. Or rather, what had been a balcony. The balcony itself was likely baked beneath the heel of the giant loaf.

“Well, okay. First things first.” Chat's supernatural claws could cut through almost anything, so cutting a loaf of bread would be a cinch. He started clawing with a frantic furry, like a kitty on a scratching post whose life depended on its total destruction. No matter how fast his claws flew though, every gouge he took out was instantly replaced with fresh bread. There was no speed fast enough to outgrow it, and he soon tired himself out and frowned deeply at his latest arch enemy.

“Oh, crumb on,” he muttered. He really didn't want to use his cataclysm, not so soon and when there were more people to help. He sighed and stood for half a minute to evaluate his options. He heard a thunk beneath his feet and quickly bent his cat ear against the bread. “Marinette! Can you hear me?”

“Chat! Yes! Please get me out!” The bread was so thick that only his cat ears could hear her, and she sounded frantic.

“I'm trying!” he pleaded. "It's growing too fast for me to break through!"

“Use your cataclysm!”

He sighed. It really was the only option that made sense, and he supposed he had to rush back to his room in another five minutes anyway. “Okay. Cataclysm!”

The dark chaos clenched in his fist blossomed to life and with a simple touch to the heel, the entire loaf cracked in a network of intricate spiderwebs. In seconds, the loaf crumbled to the ground and dissolved into a dust that blew away on the breeze.

He threw open the top hatch and jumped in before she could react.

"Hey, Princess. Figured I'd find you _loafing_ around." His broad grin was immediately replaced with a startled gasp as she threw her arms around him and held tight.

“I knew you'd come quickly,” she whispered.

Chat bit his lip and held her tightly, losing himself momentarily in her arms. He needed this girl in his life like he needed air to breathe. He had to fix things. Adrien had to make things right....

“Of course, Princess. You can always count on me. Oh." He pulled away to brush her disheveled bangs to the side a little. "And happy birthday.”

“You already said that last night,” she said with a grin. “You were the first one to wish me a happy birthday, remember?”

“Yeah, well I've taken a cat nap since then.”

Her smile faded and her brows furrowed. “Save my dad, okay? He's been akumatized and I think it has to do with Chloe. Make sure he's okay. Please?”

“I gotta scat but I _will_ help him.” He squeezed her hands tightly in reassurance. “I _promise_.”

Marinette nodded and smiled. “I'll stay right here then?”

“I was just about to recommend that. Good thinking, Princess. Stay safe.” Chat tipped a fake cap at her and leapt back up the hatch again.

He had only a few minutes to spare before he changed back and he needed to be in his room before he was marooned on his lawn. He'd have to recharge Plagg and head over to the Grande Parisian as soon as possible while trying to think of another excuse for Nathalie. Maybe a nap this time. Shower and nap was always a good combination.

Still standing on Marinette's balcony, he turned towards his house and saw the familiar polka dotted shape of Ladybug. She was headed in the general direction as he was, opposite the hotel. Maybe she knew something he didn't. It could be the Baker hadn't gone towards the hotel.

It was the strangest thing, but he still couldn't peg the direction of the shouts he heard either. They were so distant it sounded like the Baker had made it half way across the city, and not the Grande Parisian a couple of blocks away. He wouldn't have enough time to help them if they were that far, but he could at least give his partner a heads up that he would be back to help.

She was moving fast across the rooftops, and even with only a few minutes to spare, Chat's playful side won out when he realized this would be the perfect time to make good on a little bet they had. The stakes didn't matter, but he was pretty sure he could sneak up on her in a flash, win, and reassure her there were no hard feelings between them to boot.

He saw her standing on the awning of a store three stories below where he perched. She'd stopped en route to talk to Sabrina's father, Officer Raincomprix. His cat ears were on full alert, more curious than anything else given there wasn't any action in sight.

“-that way, Ladybug,” Roger stated, pointing, west towards the Grande Parisian.

“Thanks, officer. Make sure no one steps on anyone!” she said sternly. “There's no telling how many people he's already hit.”

Chat was startled at that. His feet hadn't touched the ground between home and Marinette's so he had no idea was she was referring to.

“Then you and Chat Noir better catch him quick. I'm heading over there now to send backup if you need it.”

“Sure, I could use the help, officer, but forget Chat. You see him before I do, tell him I don't need him.”

Chat froze.

“What are you talking about, Ladybug? Aren't you a team?” Roger asked curiously.

“Not anymore. Have you even seen him around lately?”

“Actually, no....”

“Right. I've learned to live without him. And to tell you the truth, he's more trouble than he's worth.”

By this point, Chat had stopped breathing.

“He can't avoid getting into trouble. He's more likely to get himself shrunk then be helpful and then I'll have to save his ass too.” She shook her head. “I can't deal with that shit anymore. If he wants to save Paris, he needs to figure out how to work alone.”

Chat's limbs refused to move. His eyes stayed glued to the girl below him, but his mind jittered and staggered to a painful halt. What did she mean? Didn't need him anymore? What the hell was that?

So they'd had a disagreement, he'd walked away upset, but he'd never have guessed this would be her reaction. That she would come to resent him.... Sure, he'd turned into a marionette once, and been hit by an arrow that other time, and perfume that other _other_ time....

But to have her hold any of that against him was so shocking he didn't know what to make of it. He'd do anything for her, she _had_ to know that. Or...he had _thought_ she knew that.

Chat stumbled backwards from the edge of the building, all of his coordination abandoning him. He needed to get out of here. Out of earshot, out of sight. Somehow he still had the presence of mind to check his ring, and saw that the final pad had started to blink.

He stumbled and tripped in a daze towards the opposite edge of the building where Roger and Ladybug wouldn't see him leave. He was still numb with shock even as he slipped in through his bedroom window and transformed just before landing hard on the floor.

Plagg lay exhausted at his side, moaning over-dramatically, but even his usual wails weren't piercing enough to reach him now. Plagg rolled over and grabbed his stomach, moaning about cheese, but stopped when he saw that he wasn't getting a reaction.

“Kid?” Plagg sat up slowly, his little antenna drooping. “Are you okay? What happened?” He flew up and landed on his shoulder, but Adrien didn't respond.

Adrien pulled his knees up to his chest and stared at a blank space on the floor in front of him. He didn't have words. He didn't have thoughts. He couldn't even begin to make sense of what he had just heard.

“Hey, kid, you're freaking me out right now. What's going on?”

Adrien blinked hard and forced himself to turn his head, the motion disembodied. Mechanical. He stared at his kwame for a long silent moment, Plagg's ears fallen flat on his head in concern.

Adrien just shook his head.

There were a million questions in Plagg's eyes, but Adrien's mouth was dry and parched and he didn't have the will to speak.

The intercom buzzed on by his bed. “Adrien?” Nathalie's cold hard inquiry was jarring in the silence of his room.

Adrien's body didn't respond, his mind didn't register what he heard. Everything was on a time delay of shock and pain, betrayal and sadness. “Adrien, are you there?”

He didn't know how he roused himself, but he managed to shimmy or crawl to the intercom, hitting the button mechanically, without feeling or thought, his voice belonging to someone other than himself when he finally spoke.

“Present.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know... You got questions. There will be answers! Promise! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> I'm love love lovin' all of your comments and feedback too! <3 ^_^


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